PublicRelations
by gimmetheheadcanons
Summary: Klaus Mikaelson, Hollywood's Native Son has fallen from grace once too often. Bonnie Bennett has yet to taste the terrible addictiveness of being tabloid fodder. Perhaps, together they can lift the curse of celebrity or at least profit from it. Extra! Extra! Read all about it…here. [discontinued]
1. Chapter 1

_**A/N:**_ _This is based on a prompt by the irresistible-revolution. It is a Klonnie all human AU._

 **Summary:** Klaus Mikaelson, Hollywood's Native Son has fallen from grace once too often. Bonnie Bennett has yet to taste the terrible addictiveness of being tabloid fodder. Perhaps, together they can lift the curse of celebrity or at least profit from it. Extra, extra, read all about it…here.

 **Public/Relations.**

 **One**

"Why my eyes must be deceiving me brother! It looks like my little get together has drawn the attention of supernatural forces!" Klaus Mikaelson cut his brother off mid-sentence, in a spectacularly theatrical fashion the elder Mikaelson somehow was used to yet could never fully anticipate. Elijah Mikaelson rolled his eyes swiftly and Klaus watched as the dissatisfied expression his brother wore on his face all evening intensified. The grinning blond, on the other hand, couldn't help but wonder if Elijah knew exactly how predictable _he_ appeared to everyone who knew _him_.

"How spooky." His brother sighed before taking a lazy swig from his champagne glass. Elijah's deep brown eyes appeared as disinterested as ever in his younger sibling's obsessions. Unfortunately, the muscles in his jaws clenching so passive aggressively, betrayed his thoughts. They telegraphed a warning Klaus knew well; regardless of how long the detour, the conversation was far from over.

Klaus pretended not to notice, fixating deeply on this latest subject. Starting purely as a way to silence Elijah it was slowly transforming into something more capable of holding his prone-to-fleeting interest. A surprisingly delightful picture momentarily drawing even the attention of his reluctant brother.

Bonnie Bennett: As seen on...

She tried to slip into the venue wearing a dress darker than the depths of space. But the long sleeved brazen number with the deep décolleté demanded Klaus's devotion, as did the seductive split down the middle of her legs revealing the silky-smooth brown of her skin. She wore bold silver earrings, glistening glamorously like the very chandeliers decorating the room she'd entered and hanging low enough to almost touch the padded angular shoulders of her dress but never quite daring to. Her long brown hair was slicked back, revealing all her perfect face as hazel eyes made contact with his blue green ones.

She bestowed him with the polite smile of a partial stranger. In exchange he raised the fingers on his right hand and returned a little wave.

Klaus continued to tease his brother, his voice unnaturally light and breezy. "Oh don't pretend you aren't aware of who that is." He said the words knowing very well the answer was no.

Elijah responded with a false smile of his own and a less than subtle dig. "You've made it clear on ample occasion Klaus. Babylon is your town."

Klaus felt his notorious impatience rear its ugly head. He had been nothing but a gracious host this evening but half a bottle in and his brother's unwillingness to let bygones be bygones meant Klaus couldn't let this slight go unanswered.

Typical Elijah, he thought angrily, crass enough to bring his pulpit to a party. Why must he insist on fuelling the flames of familial strife with this ceaseless meddling?

For a moment, the actor was beginning to regret extending an invitation to his older brother but then he reminded himself of the real purpose of this long overdue get together. After all, what is success without the glorious opportunity to gloat? And as always, Klaus Mikaelson was certain the annual Summer Ball he hosted at NeueHouse Hollywood would be a perfect triumph, up to the task of silencing his many critics at this trying time in his career.

Even the ones I call blood.

Still, Klaus found himself snapping back. "Of course, it is far too sordid here for your sensibilities. Our noble Elijah! The City of London banker who is above sin. Do tell me again how you many guilt-ridden saps you prevented from leaping out of windows in '08?"

Elijah hardly blinked. His face a portrait of calm unnerving Klaus.

"Probably fewer than the number who have succumbed to their demons at one of your parties."

And in a sentence, Klaus was wrong about Elijah and his safe predictability.

It was a calculated strike from the square jawed man before him, meant to provoke and render him speechless. It worked. Klaus's pale face turned a shade of petty pink. For the first time all evening, his hair appeared anything less than perfect as he ran his finger through the dirty blond curls in frustration.

There was a cold silence between two brothers. Klaus was barely able to contain his indignation but for the moment was still lost for words.

Elijah, hardly looking at him now, busied himself with the casual activity of people watching. Pleasant pop sounds played in the background and guests continued to dance and conversate.

This wasn't the deal. His brother was supposed to be above dragging up such topics. Their joust with words would wound often but hardly with so much intent to injure.

"Spoken like a true Mikaelson." Klaus responded finally. He spoke in a low whisper so as to not draw any attention from the other attendees, but it was no use. Eyes were already on the two brothers. They had been all evening.

"You are a party guest, not a prisoner Elijah. Go if you must." He hissed, meaning every word, wishing to banish his loathsome brother from his sight instantly.

The elder Mikaelson hesitated. A curious look appeared on his face as he tried to gauge the extent to which Klaus was serious. Getting his answer in the form of his brother's unyielding eyes glaring back at him, Elijah simply sighed before grabbing another glass of champagne from the tray of a member of the waiting staff in the midst of making their rounds.

He thanked the young man then turned to Klaus once more.

Regretful or simply defeated, it was Elijah's turn to change the subject.

"Who is the girl?" He asked, finally succumbing to taking the easy road and playing Klaus's game.

Regardless of the questionable sincerity behind it, the gesture pleased Klaus and a grin appeared on his handsome face once more.

The greedy eyes on them anticipating drama were denied.

Klaus threw a loving arm around his brother's shoulders.

"A powerful wiccan." He whispered, ending the sentence with a small gasp for dramatic effect. By now, the captivating young woman had gotten in the swing of the party and was dancing in the arms of dashing dark-haired anonymous gentleman Klaus somehow couldn't recall even inviting.

Then again, he could hardly take credit for her arrival either.

"Oh God Niklaus." Elijah bemoaned. "Did it slip your mind how tedious it was to engage in small-talk with that heinous co-star of yours last year? I could barely maintain a polite tone a she quacked on and on and on about her active engagement in pseudoscientific projects no doubt meant to enrich her pockets rather than any human lives."

Klaus laughed at the memory of his sagacious sibling finally finding something he wasn't immediately great at; keeping up with the latest Hollywood fads.

"Ah but brother, Gwyneth is a wise woman and a trailblazer."

Elijah looked less amused.

"I draw the line Klaus. Do not call over this witch. I insist."

The pleas fell on deaf ears, the bewitching young woman was in hailing distance and Klaus was already on the job of making his own evening more entertaining at the expense of his brother's.

"Ah Ms. Bennett!" He sang, greeting the stranger with a kiss on each cheek like they were in fact old dear friends. "How wonderful of you to join us this evening."

"It's a great party!" Bonnie smiled. She looked somewhat perplexed at the unearned warm welcome but eagerly played along. She nervously clutched at her drink, taking sips and awkward glances at intervals. It excited Klaus. The power he held in this town.

Klaus smiled fondly. "This? It's dull that's what it is. Deadest company I've had for months!"

His words caused the young woman to inhale the bubbly gold liquid in her glass and choke slightly.

Fury flooded Elijah's face and it took Klaus a second to realise why.

 _Deadest company._

Klaus's heart sank a little. Those unfortunate choice of words were like a spell summoning the biting disappointment his brother bore for him. It was finally becoming clear to Klaus that despite all he did to distract from the tension, there would be no appreciable difference in how Elijah would view him.

Then there was that sound. Bonnie Bennett's light laughter going off in his ears like church bells. The intrusion unknowingly bringing to a standstill the silent standoff.

Klaus turned to her. She surprised him a little, her lips, still wet from the mishap.

She covered her dark painted mouth with her hand.

"Is it too late to ask for a sippy cup?" She joked, making light of her reaction, and looking less flustered.

Klaus watched as Elijah, ever mindful of manners, pulled a powder blue handkerchief from the blazer pocket of his three-piece navy suit. Klaus patted at his own breast briefly before realizing he wore no jacket. Just a black Alexander McQueen shirt with the top button opened.

"Would you like me to get you another drink?" Elijah asked Bonnie, intervening with that overbearing helpfulness Klaus loathed. Klaus's eyes widened, disappointed at the notion of Bonnie playing the damsel to please his brother. Many women often did.

This evening was beginning to feel like a competition he was destined to keep losing.

The grateful, yet slightly embarrassed look painted on Bonnie's face caused his stomach to twist. However inconsequential she was, she was still here at his behest and Klaus didn't appreciate seeing her look into his brother's gentle eyes and forget this.

Instead Bonnie shook her head and politely declined.

Again it surprising Klaus.

"Thanks but I'm fine."

Going from side-lined to smug, Klaus discreetly shoved his brother (for good measure) out of the way. "There is plenty of champagne in her flute still brother." He said with a disarmingly disingenuous smile.

"Sorry did you say brother?"

Klaus answered Bonnie with a nod, deciding to formally make the introduction before his brother could once again step forward on his own. "Ms. Bennett. This is Elijah, one of eldest of our clan."

There it was again. That laugh. "Hi. Bonnie Bennett, only child."

"How fortunate you are." Elijah replied in what appeared to the untrained eye as equally light hearted humor.

Klaus allowed himself to chuckle too. "My brother and I were just in deep conversation about your work," he said, immediately winning back Bonnie's attention. "And we simply had to properly meet you."

She looked back at him with suspicious eyes. "Really?"

"Of course." Klaus promised her.

Bonnie turned to Elijah once more. "You got kids?"

Klaus watched his brother carefully as he appeared thrown by the seemingly random question. "No, not at the moment." Elijah answered.

There was an awkward pause between the two which Klaus relished every moment of.

"Do you work with children?" Elijah finally wagered.

Bonnie frowned. "Yeah I do." She said, sounding slightly unimpressed by the pointless question. But then Klaus saw her shrug it off and it made him smile.

"They're really great. Extremely talented." Bonnie said proudly. "Some of them even started in the biz earlier than I did."

Elijah swallowed hard and exaggerated his nods. With an overcompensating smile slapped on his face he made an effort to follow her words. "I wasn't aware that there is such increasing popularity in the practice of alternative religious movements. With children I mean."

"Excuse me?" Bonnie said baffled by his brother.

"Pardon?" Elijah responded, feeling equally puzzled but trying to remain polite.

Klaus bit back the urge to snicker, knowing it would reveal all and end his fun prematurely.

"What my brother means to say is," He chimed in eagerly, "that you are a trailblazer Ms. Bennett."

"Yes, Niklaus is absolutely correct." Elijah exclaimed, unknowingly taking his brother's bait, "I mean I find it all ever so interesting. Like Ms. Paltrow and her work. Truly fascinating."

Bonnie laughed uncomfortably not fully understanding what brought on Elijah's words or the comparison. But then something changed in her expression. "I don't have any of the same laurels as her or your brother but I'm going to. Try something different and see where it takes me, I guess."

Klaus found Bonnie looking directly at him. The confession of her ambition didn't seem to embarrass her. There was a familiar hunger in those eyes refusing to lower before him and it caught him off-guard. Klaus was used to flocks of admirers wanting piece of the legacy he built for himself here in Hollywood, but Bonnie Bennett was apparently not one of them.

A piece wasn't what she was after.

He didn't need to read between the lines to hear it loud and clear.

She was making a declaration. Here. In his throne room and it said – See you at the top.

 _With a wink._

Elijah, not privy to what just passed between Klaus and Bonnie, was still trying to decode the statement the young woman voiced. "My brother? What do you mean like my brother?"

Bonnie's eyes were still locked onto Klaus's. "This is the first time we're meeting but I've followed your career. Well the stuff on the silver screen anyway."

For the second time tonight, Klaus's eyes widened at the possibility of there being subtext to her words. The hairs on Klaus's neck prickled.

"You may call me Klaus witch." The words escaped his lips before he could stop himself. It was supposed to, in a less than gentle manner, remind her of her status yet somehow Klaus felt it achieved the opposite. It elevated her to his. Equals.

She scrunched up her face and shook her head.

"And you may call me Bonnie." She insisted with a sweet smile before leaning in and whispering. "And uhm, not so little anymore."

Klaus could not seem to relax. "Of course not." He said with a deceptively sweet smile of his own "You have traded in the pointy, size S hat for big girl executive producer credits. How could that have elapsed me. Very impressive."

Bonnie pursed her lips, turning to Elijah for the first time in a while. "So," she said in a slightly cynical tone. "You two are just casual fans of the Disney channel huh? Who would've thunk it."

"The Disney Channel?" Elijah asked, the frown on his face deepening.

" _What a Wiccan Thing to Do_. Thursdays, Eight o'clock, Eastern Standard Time on Disney? The fascinating work you were so deeply delving into."

Klaus watched as the wheels in his brother's head stopped turning and everything became clear. "Oh, you're a _witch_."

"No." Bonnie replied firmly. "I used to play one on TV, a long time ago. And now, to be perfectly honest, I'm kinda done playing here."

At last! Klaus thought gleefully, clapping together his hands as his older brother turned red in the face. It was time claim his prize. Free to finally laugh, Klaus did so – loudly.

"Tick tock!" He sneered at both Elijah and Bonnie. "The witching hour approaches and you successfully lifted the dour curse on my family."

A dark, exasperated look casted over her immaculately made up face. Tired, Bonnie Bennett simply sighed. "Yeah…we're definitely done here." She said before abruptly exiting the conversation on her own terms.

Not used to being dismissed like that Klaus called out after the young woman.

"Oh come now! Don't be like that!" He shouted, still cracking up and hoping she would come to her senses and see the sense of fun he orchestrated for them all to enjoy.

Nonetheless she never turned around for him only faintly replying "Great party." and "Bye." Klaus was left staring at her long hair just as immovable on her shoulders as she was to his pleas.

Then he got over it. Fast.

"Oh well." Klaus shrugged, still wearing that wide satisfied smile, and wiping away at the corner of his eye any hint of wetness his laughs produced.

Elijah was infinitely less amused by the whole ordeal and wore an exhausted expression similar to Bonnie's. The look, once more set off the fits of laughter.

"Your face brother." Klaus said laughing and pointing.

"We upset her Klaus." Elijah said swatting the finger in his face away.

"She didn't look very wounded to me."

Klaus's blatant dismissal stunned Elijah. "Those daggers in her eyes were clearly meant for you!"

Klaus rubbed his neck. He was growing impatient with Elijah's insistence on painting an uglier narrative than he personally witnessed. Where was the harm his brother was harping on about? What deeply evil humiliation had just occurred?

It was a joke.

"Relax Elijah." Klaus said in a tone hardly capable of being called soothing. There was no doubt about it, Klaus was demanding his brother drop the subject immediately. "Thin skinned starlets are not very high on my list of concerns. There are plenty more delicious dishes for you to take a bite out of."

"Pick one." Klaus insisted. "My treat." He shot his brother a deadly look.

Elijah looked hardly impacted by the threat. "And that is where you expose your greatest flaw little brother." He said in a low, controlled voice enunciating every word. "Your impulsiveness is what makes you so short sighted."

"You are in an industry built on whom you know and what they in turn know of you. Yet, you do nothing to endear yourself to any of your peers, even when well aware of how exposed you are at this very moment."

Elijah was breathing heavily at the end of the speech. It was as if the words had been weighing down on his chest for years and today, he was finally free of them as they crushed Klaus instead.

"That's where you reveal _your flaw_ brother." Klaus spat back, almost snarling. "Self-righteousness and a quickness to speak on matters you know so very little of!"

People were beginning stare again, curious whispers relishing in the reward they'd been awaiting, and Klaus so thoughtlessly gave them. He could feel it all slip away. The dream of the perfect night he worked so hard to execute escaping his grasp once again. He was growing weary of this constant struggle.

This was supposed to be his night.

 _His comeback._

"I have no peers in this town or any other Elijah."

Elijah scoffed at the statement harshly. "You think our name has made you a king."

Klaus was almost screaming in his brothers face by now. "Our name has held me back! I took the throne by myself!"

More aware of the eyes on them than Klaus himself was, Elijah grabbed him by the arm and forcibly pulled him towards the fire exit. Even so, he continued to scold him still.

"A couple gold statues and you think you're untouchable." The elder Mikaelson muttered angrily as they walked together.

Once outside and out of the reach of eavesdroppers, Klaus freed himself from Elijah's grip with one aggressive jolt. "What right do you have to drag me away from my guests?" Klaus hissed spitting pure venom at his brother who remained unscathed.

Elijah shook his head simply. "You were drawing attention, but I expect you know that already since you live for it little brother."

Klaus laughed ironically at those words. "And you think that the gray of a respectable, business suit can dull the primal ambitions of a Mikaelson."

"You're not off in some tiny town living a quiet life Elijah like our Finn or dear, sweet, Freya. You're as much as a thrill-seeker as I am." Klaus

Elijah remained unmoved as he uttered his following lines.

"My thrills have yet to kill anyone Niklaus."

Klaus's heart hammered in his chest. White hot rage pulsated throughout his body to complement the dizzyingly warm, sticky air of the summer's evening.

"Ah." He said, coldly and quietly. "There it finally is."

Elijah took a step back and Klaus knew his brother knew he played his final card too early. It was out there now. The unsaid said.

"Speak!" Klaus barked his face red, spit wetting Elijah's face as he spoke. "You have the pulpit and I'm oh so eager to hear your sermon!"

Committed now, Elijah launched into his attack.

"Your actions, untamed, have led to the death of another. Just two months ago your home was crawling with police and your face was plastered all over the newspapers."

Not missing a beat, Elijah continued. "So naturally, what do you decide to do? Have another ridiculous fete."

"You think it's in poor taste." Klaus said hurrying Elijah along to his point.

"Oh no we are beyond poor taste. This is sheer stupidity." His brother held his hands up angrily in a fashion Klaus rarely saw him.

Face still red, Klaus forced a laugh. "A little death is nothing here in Hollywood." He insisted, trying to empty Elijah's artillery by beating him to the punchline. "Two months is the equivalent of two years in the news cycle. They have moved on and so have I."

Elijah looked taken aback by the blasé way Klaus took control of the narrative and so Klaus pushed forward.

"Unless you have unearthed some other tantalizing tales to interest them, the vultures have had their pound of flesh."

"How can you speak like this." Elijah whispered looking as though once again Klaus had taken a sledgehammer to the bare minimum he expected of him.

"What?" Klaus cried, his heart continuing to thunder in his chest and his breathing becoming more and more uneven. "Speak like what Elijah! I have done nothing wrong and yet you look at me as if I am the one who held Carol Lockwood's head underwater, drowning with my own bare hands!"

Frustrated Klaus's eyes began to sting, he cursed himself for the amount he drank throughout the evening. When he gave his assistant the go ahead for this year's Summer Ball, he hadn't anticipated on how difficult it was going to be. To face the people on the guest list. However, when his assistant Josh, with his impressively irritating ability to speak without the aid of his frontal lobe, had straightforwardly asked Klaus if he worried about the attendance numbers being somewhat thin, Klaus simply laughed. No, they would come, he boasted. In their droves to witness the man who threw killer parties.

Literally.

"Why must I act contrite for having the audacity to continue my life. I barely knew that dreadful woman!" Klaus said, determined to defend himself if no one else would.

Carol Lockwood was a publicist and a pain in the ass. She was also a piss poor judge of character and a lightweight. None of these things were in anyway linked to Klaus. If it hadn't been his fountain, it would've been her own bathtub.

But the press placed his picture next to hers ever since. Omitting the very significant details that Klaus hadn't been anywhere near the garden and death was quickly ruled an accident.

Except it did not seem to matter. He could go shopping and the headline would cleverly read: _"Klaus Mikaelson In Retail Therapy to Deal with Drowning Trauma_."

"She is dead. Let me live brother."

Elijah groaned. "This is what I mean. You cannot go around calling the deceased dreadful. You are playing into their hands!"

Klaus rubbed at his eyes, frustrated by the circular nature of their argument. "Again, the hounds are gone, they've feasted and there is nothing left here for them."

Relieved to see that Elijah had no more words for him, Klaus let himself calm down.

Except, there was one more thing he needed to make sure of. "I think I should trust my own brother not to sell my words to the gossip column. If not for me, then for the sake of our _dreadful_ deceased parents."

The words did not come to Elijah's surprise. He sighed and merely shook his head, indulging what he saw as ravings of a paranoid man. Klaus was careful enough not to be fooled by any of it.

"All I have ever wanted for you Niklaus is peace of mind. You know you never need ask for my word."

Klaus swallowed hard, turning away from his brother, and feeling the heat of shame on the back of neck.

"But I see now," Elijah added on a more sorrowful note. "there is nothing that will satisfy you more than living under constant threats of your own creation."

For all his faults, his brother knew him. How to reach him.

"Father is gone. Yet you keep trying to find a way to let his ugliness live on."

And how to devastate him.

Klaus had fallen silent a while back and Elijah appeared to have gotten enough courage to approach him. When he spoke again, it was without any of the anger or disappointment of before.

"That young woman tonight did not deserve such open derision." He said placing a careful hand on his shoulder. "You fully well know that. If I cannot appeal to your instinct for self-preservation, then let me try speak to your long grudge-filled memory of our upbringing instead."

Klaus swallowed hard rubbing his face once more. He let out a long sigh. Elijah did not need to stir up any further memories of all the ways their father had tormented him, least of all with the aid of cruel words.

He thought back to Bonnie, so proud and pathetic all at once and he wondered if the thought of defiantly spitting in his face had crossed her mind. If she had, would she instinctively have apologized as his father had taught him to for his insolence so long ago; expose the skin on her back, present it as a canvas for him to inflict his revenge upon.

Would he paint it a bloody red.

Reluctantly and with nowhere to hide, Klaus decided to hear the words of his brother. "Fine. I will go flatter the former child star's ego in the hope of making some sort of amends."

"Good." Elijah said with a slight smile of relief on his face. One less enemy his idiot little brother would make, Klaus guessed.

Klaus said nothing in return. Elijah had extracted all he would tonight.

"I should take my leave now." The older man declared after glancing at his watch.

Klaus frowned a little.

"What time do you fly out?"

Elijah answered. "Tomorrow evening."

Klaus closed his eyes for a moment. His hands curled up into tight balls.

"I have no problem with you staying the night Elijah." He uttered the words not looking at his brother's face. He could hear Elijah exhale deeply.

Deciding not to wait for a response he knew would not come, Klaus turned around and made to return to his party via fire exit Elijah pulled him through. Behind him he could hear his brother's deep voice clearly.

"I will see you, as planned, for lunch at the Wiltshire."

"Goodnight brother."


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

Bonnie Bennett's evening was becoming increasingly unpleasant; the shoes on her feet pinched painfully, the contact lenses in her eyes burned, the sleeves on her dress – sticky with spilled champagne. And the date supposed to be on her arm? A complete and total fucking no-show.

"You promised Ric." Bonnie muttered angrily under her breath as she checked her phone for the sixteenth time. Still no message from her agent, Alaric Saltzmann, on his whereabouts or possible ETA. If Bonnie hadn't been so damn annoyed she would've had the heart to worry about the older man.

It did strike her as a bit odd however…Tonight, in their line of work, wasn't the kind of night you just skipped.

The Annual Niklaus Mikaelson Summer Ball at NeueHouse, Hollywood.

This gorgeous hall flooded with glamorous guests presented a goldmine of opportunities for a seasoned Hollywood head hunter like Alaric. Hands to shake and cheeks to kiss – upstairs _and downstairs_ (or so to speak). There were careers here to get involved in; careers to remake and reap the benefit of. The perfect place for ICM Partners' latest partner.

Work that charm on a number of already well-nourished egos, flatter them to the moon and back. Or as Ric boasted to Bonnie many times before; lay the groundwork to reach your true goal by telling them what they need to hear when you need them to hear it.

Bonnie hated to think that's what happened with her all those years ago when she met Ric as a child. Him, selling her a dream and her? A pint-sized performer happily eating it up like a slice of Gram's peach cobbler.

Except in her case it wasn't just a dream or false flattery. Ric delivered everything he promised and _then some_.

Fame. Fortune. Fourteen Teen Choice Awards.

But here Bonnie was, at her mentor's hunting grounds and just as hungry as him. Realizing for the first time ever he must have known this about her since the day they met.

What was it the old bloodhound would smell on her now she wondered.

Desperation?

Her agent really should've been an actor. Alaric Saltzmann wouldn't have been standing on the side lines, licking his wounds, feeling somehow jilted by the crème de la crème of the cinematic world. Ric would've found an in by now.

She, on the other hand, had left the dance floor to retreat to the corner of the room, fully embracing her latest role – Bonnie Bennett as The Overdressed Ornament. She kicked off her shoes with a disappointed sigh. This was exhausting. A pointless evening drawing to a close and barely any meaningful introductions made. Unless, you'd somehow manage to count fighting off the advances of Lorenzo St. Johns as qualifying as productive.

Lorenzo (or _Enzo_ to her and all his 'muses') had swooped her up into his arms the second she arrived at the party. Not that there was a line of men he had to beat to the punch or anything, but Bonnie was flattered nonetheless. It felt good to be wanted and so, with a dish of a man on her arm, Bonnie's evening had begun perfectly. As Lorenzo twirled her around the room, displaying the pretty young thing that caught his eye to everyone else; Bonnie's eyes were squarely on the real prize of the night. She keenly observed the room, a glittering sea of men and women with golden statues and at the center stood the illustrious Mr. Klaus Mikaelson.

Safe in her dance partner's arms, Bonnie kept thinking about how wild it was just being here in Klaus Mikaelson's court. She had waltzed into a world she had only dreamed of and wilder yet, Hollywood's golden boy knew she was there.

The way his lips curled upwards and his sharp eyes connected with hers as she made her entrance. A goddamn Cinderella moment, if there ever was one. It was in that moment when Bonnie realized, without Ric's guide to _who's who_ , she had no actual game plan for the night.

With no idea how to react to the attention she was receiving from the star of the show, Bonnie buried her face into the shoulders of another.

Stay cool, calm, and composed Bennett, she told herself as she continued to delight her dance partner with her company.

But perhaps the coy smiles and calculated touches did their job a little too effectively because Bonnie quickly found that Lorenzo St. Johns wasn't above laying it on pretty thick even when she realized her mistake and cooled off.

 _Ah but aren't you worth that extra effort pet?_

Lorenzo whispered softly into her ears. It was tempting, yet Bonnie managed to extract herself from the situation by simply (but politely) thanking the designer over and over again for the lovely dress she wore – a gorgeous St. Johns creation. The sexy black number was hot off the rack and Bonnie still couldn't believe her luck in getting her hands on it in the first place.

If you're gonna walk into a den of narcissists Bonnie Bennett, you may as well look a billion bucks. And betcha a billion more, Bonnie knew she looked _good._

But good enough to have garnered the attention of Klaus Mikaelson?

Maybe she thought. But then moments later her more than excruciating encounter with the man and his brother happened to burst that bubble. Boy that should've taught her a lesson in humility huh? Funny how it just did the opposite.

The self-pity of moments ago evaporated by the infuriating memory and spite began bubbling up inside of her once more. It didn't matter how many rave reviews the bastard lorded over the rest of them or what doors he potentially could've opened for her, Bonnie had enough dignity not to stand around and beg to be treated like a peer. She exited her conversation with the Mikaelson brothers without emptying the contents of her glass on either of them and that, as far as she was concerned, made her a goddamn saint.

It would've been worth it though, Bonnie told herself, as she pushed through the pain of her heels and went back to dancing the night away with the tall, dark, and handsome man deeply infatuated with her act as Bonnie Bennett: Elegant, Poised and Experienced at turning heads wherever she went.

And one hell of a performance it was, all for the benefit of another man who'd surely eat his words one day.

The petty charade however, ended as soon as Elijah Mikaelson began dragging Klaus's self-important ass out of the hall. Then the whispers began, and Bonnie grew uncomfortable with all that pretense.

So here she was now, bare feet and frustrated, trying to regroup and find another persona to wear like a second skin. On preferably less likely to complicate things.

It was too late by then.

Lorenzo St. Johns, less impressed with sharing gossip and more interested in fueling it, decided to chase Cinderella to the place she had retreated to. He wanted Bonnie's number or more expressly (when insisting on their 'undeniable connection' didn't work) to see if there was any way to continue their dance back at his place – naked.

Acutely aware of the wildfire speed of the whispers in this town and having been reminded just in case she'd forgotten, Bonnie firmly declined, telling dear _Enzo_ she was already seeing someone.

Initially reluctant in accepting her reply, the man finally backed off quietly when Bonnie maintained she was completely smitten with her fabricated beau. Then to her irritation, it didn't take him very long to bounce right back from that self-proclaimed heartbreak. Bonnie rolled her eyes as she watched the fashion powerhouse with his third girl of the evening – one who undoubtedly 'stirred his inspiration' too– a tall, pretty, blonde with a wide perfectly white smile and way too intense aura.

Seething, Bonnie wondered where she knew her from. Grammy winning country singer or something, she thought, but fuck if she could be bothered to remember her name now.

Yeah, good luck getting in there buddy.

Having some time to reflect after escaping his now no longer tempting clutches, Bonnie was pretty sure _Enzo_ wouldn't have insisted on continuing dancing with her if she'd just shown him the stains on his masterpiece.

She wasn't a muse, just a mess. Reeking a little of champagne and childish self-importance.

Still, she was grateful for the distraction his company provided because right now, she was getting more than a little sick of her own.

Emptying another glass of champagne down her throat, Bonnie began scanning the room for a conceited curly haired blond of her own. She, like everyone else here, wondered what exactly happened between the Mikaelson brothers before they swiftly exited thirty minutes ago. Since then however, it appeared that neither man had bothered returning to the ball.

Whatever all the growling between two siblings had been all about, she was just happy it wasn't directed at her.

I sense some mad dark energy, Bonnie told herself, using words her fictional counterpart so often did. It wasn't magical intuition however, that informed Bonnie Bennett of the shadowy drama following Klaus Mikaelson. It was TMZ.

That and her shit ton of experience in Tinsel-Town.

Bonnie's phone buzzed in her hand.

Not Alaric Saltzmann.

The text on the screen read as unfeeling as the machine that deliver it to her: _Can't make it. Work – Dad_

Bonnie cursed herself for ever having the audacity to ask in the first place. Of course, Rudy Hopkins, Mayor of Mystic Falls, Virginia – a wholesome little town as far away as possible from Beverly Hills – was uninterested in flying out to celebrate the 20th anniversary of _What a Wiccan Thing To Do_.

Bonnie read the text once more.

 _Work._

Right, she thought angrily. Ten years of her life she gave to building that show. She'd been working every day since the age of eight and yet her father could make her feel like she'd just run away from home for some extended holiday.

She closed the message without reply. Her homepage wallpaper popped up on the screen with a picture of her true parent. Sheila Bennett, the woman who raised her. Her beloved Grams.

Bonnie smiled affectionately at the pixels. Every photo she took with her grandmother was her favorite but this one was particularly special. The Bonnie staring back was eighteen and her Grams, still fiercely protective, had a loving arm around her, pulling her as close as possible. It was taken at the wrap party after she just finished filming her last ever episode as the lead of _WAWTTD._ Bonnie's messy bangs were covered in confetti and glitter as she wore on her head the oversized, pointed witch's hat she had finally managed to grow into over the years.

"I love you child." Her grams told her that night and Bonnie kissed her. "Let me let you in on secret. You got some powerful magic inside you Bonnie. This is just the beginning of your rise."

There was no magic in the world that could've spared Bonnie from having to watch her grandmother waste away a year and half after she said those words.

Sheila Bennett never got to see how right she was. It was a truth that left a bitter taste in Bonnie's mouth she knew she couldn't possibly wash down with another glass of champagne – but she tried to anyway.

She was about to make a grab for some of that magic bubbly elixir, approaching a passing member of the catering staff, when she decided to deal with the sudden wave of emotion the old fashioned sensible way instead. A couple of deep breaths followed by several forced coughs to clear her throat. _Don't wreck your make-up for me child_ – she could her grandmother clearly chastise her in her mind – _not in front of these damn fools_.

Her Grams, looking out for her even beyond the grave.

The same could not be said for Bonnie's father.

Rudy Hopkins never truly approved of her choices. Sure, he sprang for the dance lessons, vocal coaches, and even at times sat reluctantly (back row) through her school plays as a kid. Yet when the fun was over, he expected her to put her dreams of glamor and glory aside for a place at reality's table.

But Grams believed. In art and beauty. In her.

Bonnie lived for playing make belief. Then she got to play to her hearts content for years, occupying a truly magical word of spells and imagination on television until it was no longer fun.

Suddenly her father was right.

It was all a game and she'd outgrown it.

So here she was, trying to find a new game to be the best at, surrounded by a series of new opportunities; at the invitation of Alaric Saltzman, a man she was beginning to believe was just like her father in that he couldn't care less about her.

I don't need them, Bonnie thought proudly. She was far from her days as a wide-eyed dreamer and would never know the struggles of being a starving artist.

She was a success story. A young woman who began growing a franchise at the age of nineteen and now had executive Producer credits on three Disney spin-offs of _WAWTTD_ and four made for television movies.

You're damn right that shit's impressive Klaus, Bonnie thought furiously, her eyes once more sweeping the room for the naysayer.

Satisfied there would no further run-ins with the man intent on shattering her self-esteem, Bonnie bent over, quite gracelessly, to pick up her shoes. It was 1:34 am, time to call it a night and start again tomorrow. If she called a driver now she could still get a decent amount of shut eye. Peel off this stuffy velvet dress, get enough z's and kick Alaric's ass at breakfast and then draw up new plans for her future. With or without him.

"Ms. Bennett."

Bonnie was just reaching for the second of her black Saint Laurents' when she heard him, that inimitable voice and despite the perfectly pleasant tone, it felt like a sobering ice shower.

She groaned outwardly before pulling herself together and turning around to greet Klaus Mikaelson with a perfectly pleasant tone of her own.

"Bonnie."

Klaus had a rehearsed smile well prepared. "Right, Bonnie."

She watched him with cautious eyes, looking behind him for any sign of his slightly less obnoxious, still a total doofus, elder brother. The one who turned out to _not_ be a huge fan of hers after all.

It wasn't as if Bonnie realistically expected anything more than a quick hello, but the whole exchange that passed between her and the Mikaelson brothers had left her with an awful aftertaste. Or maybe it was the copious amounts of champagne she consumed to get her through the night.

Who cares, Bonnie thought now she was facing Klaus once more. She was a grown woman with hardly any time for these dumbass games!

Defiant, she stared Klaus down with a slightly arched eyebrow and a scathing look screaming her thoughts.

 _State your damn business boy._

Ever the talented student of human emotions, Klaus Mikaelson read her mind with great ease.

"I came to see how you were enjoying the rest of the party" He said with the slightest pout on his mouth, promising to play nice. Bonnie wondered if his lips were always that full and pink or if he had some work done like every other person in this room. Either way, he had a nice enough mouth.

Pity the shit it spewed could do with a little more polish.

Bonnie narrowed her eyes. "Well – it's been a whole age since someone made a comment like: 'Do you keep your broom in the trunk of your car or cloakroom'…So, all in all? Great!"

Klaus let out a small laugh. It had none of the condescension present the last time Bonnie saw the man laugh.

"How ignorant of them. Surely you would've let the valet deal with it after you had landed." He asked, obviously teasing her. Bonnie suppressed a smile of her own. Okay, granted it wasn't at her unsuspecting expense this time, but still – she wasn't fully prepared to become best buds just yet.

She settled for a mocking _har har har_ in the end and followed that up with an equally sarcastic"God you're funny."

Now suddenly serious, Klaus changed his tone to signal his true intent. "My brother does not seem to share that opinion." He said surprising Bonnie with that revelation.

Was this the beginning of an apology? If so, she was more than happy to buckle in and enjoy the show.

"It appears –," He began, stepping in closer before placing a gentle hand on the side of her arm. Bonnie tensed up at the unexpected touch but kept her gaze firmly on the captivating blue eyes of a man made for the spotlight and an enthralled audience. Klaus continued performing his lines for her. "– I may have made your night a little more uncomfortable than I had intended to."

Is that it?

The word _sorry_ hadn't even featured!

Bonnie felt a deep disappointment, she expected the performance to at least be a good one considering how it began. Considering the involuntary fluttering of her heart when he leaned in so suddenly. Considering, she thought incredibly irritated, Klaus Mikaelson's credentials as the terribly talented but totally tortured artist and professional Oscar nominee.

Nah man, she deserved better. Five letters to be exact.

Bonnie shrugged off his hand immediately, the skin under her dress still in flames.

"Oh please!" She retorted loudly, no longer under his spell. "You called me over, so you could laugh at me. Like some high school mean girl."

She shocked him a little but not for the reasons she hoped.

"You attended high school?" Klaus asked sincerely and appearing curious to find out more.

Bonnie rolled her eyes at the segue and how she was getting sucked into this ridiculous game of trivia. "No, I did not. The filming schedule meant I studied on set with a tutor and was thankfully spared the kind of humiliation."

"It is an experience we both share then." Klaus chuckled softly. Noticing her refusal to engage, he began searching for a more genuine look and Bonnie prepared for the eventuality of an actual apology.

"I promise, I was mocking my brother more than I was you. But you were offended all the same. That I must concede"

Satisfied but not yet ready to fully forget Bonnie felt obliged to continue giving the man a hard time. "Great." She exclaimed, her voice full of fake outrage for the benefit of her audience of one. "You're an asshole all round then and not just to me."

She got a reaction, but again not quite the one she'd expected; it was unsettling and completely unwarranted. Right before her eyes, Klaus's handsome face instantly transformed into something vicious and furious. It twisted until cold and unrecognizable from any frame of film she'd seen it on.

It her scared a little.

"You got quite the tongue for some has-been tween tv star who managed to find her way at a party full of the movers and shakers of this town." He spat back at her. The incredibly nasty delivery told Bonnie he was deliberate in his intention to hurt her.

But Bonnie Bennett, like every Disney star before her and every star after, grew up with plenty worse being said about her. Now she was no longer a child, the mean men with mean words barely landed a punch.

"I'm twenty-eight." She said, every bit the granddaughter of Sheila Bennett. Unblinking and unbothered. If he expected her to thank him for his poor attempts at making amends, then he'd be surprised to find himself soon falling to his death as she happily torched the very bridge men. like him, had gotten used to girls, like her, to keep tending.

Klaus's mask changed once more. The cold hardness slipping off and the human flesh underneath soft. He was even smiling now. "Well I'm not." He said light-heartedly.

Bonnie inhaled deeply. This conversation was a rollercoaster ride, the ground under her unreliable and the man before changing at neck break speeds.

She couldn't keep up. It needed ending. Fast.

Bonnie's attention turned to the rest of the partygoers and the hall, she looked around for any possible assists as she though over her exit strategy. She was far from helpless and yet she couldn't help but feel a little cornered by the unknown element formerly known as Klaus Mikaelson.

Klaus, however, continued to hoover in front of her. Unaware or uncaring of how off-putting his intensity had become to her, the space between them was now uncomfortably small.

"Are you waiting for someone?" He asked sounding slightly embarrassed.

Bonnie sighed at the prospect of not one soul coming to her aid and answered Klaus without making any eye contact. "I thought I was."

"Then perhaps I can continue keep you company." He eagerly offered, stepping directly into her eyeline so she was left with nowhere else to look but at him.

He was too close for comfort, except Bonnie had sneaky suspicion that Klaus Mikaelson didn't do comfortable. Period.

She'd studied the man with cautious eyes all night and found him picking and choosing emotions like the parts he plays.

The Gentleman Host. The Bored Trickster. The Temperamental yet Brilliant Artist.

And then there was that last one….

What was that, Bonnie thought.

A hybrid of a face twisted up by an entire spectrum of the most monstrous of human emotions none of which she could place her finger on. Except rage. That was apparent enough, cutting through everything else, flashing loud and clearly.

Powerful and unprovoked.

Even now as he towered over her so intimately, Bonnie couldn't exactly decipher what he was feeling or why he was so damn interested she should bear witness to it at all.

Not knowing what else to do but give herself a few inches of advantage, Bonnie quickly thought to slip on her heels. She had been holding them out in front of her as a buffer between her and Klaus, swinging them slightly like a weapon building up momentum.

Quite a bit taller and a lot more confident than before, Bonnie finally gave Klaus that reply he'd been waiting for. "Wouldn't that hurt that bad boy genius actor of our generation rep you got going? Hanging out with lil ole Disney Me?"

Klaus laughed warmly at her attempt to interrogate him. "I'll tell them I'm a fan."

He decided to whisper the words directly into Bonnie's ears, bridging the gap between them, the rough ginger stubbles on his face scratching at her cheek and his warm breath threatening to disarm her.

Bonnie carefully placed her hands on his chest, gently pushing him back to reclaim her personal space. Once he had resurfaced from executing his mind games, Klaus Mikaelson had a satisfied grin on his face Bonnie knew better than to mistake for flirtatious.

"O.M.G. Awesome! Me too!" She cried loudly in a faux Valley girl accent, startling Klaus, causing him to fall back and abandon his advance. "Like what's like your favorite episode ever?"

Composed, he replied without any hesitation. "It's a tie between _Hex-cuse Moi_ and _Fangs-giving Day Panic_."

Bonnie froze.

Her ears, still burning from heat of Klaus's breath, had to be deceiving her – and yet for some reason, six-time Oscar Nominee Klaus Mikaelson had absolutely said what he had just said.

 _Hex-cuse Moi and Fangs-giving Day Panic._

It was her turn to be startled but unlike Klaus, it took Bonnie longer than a moment to collect herself. When she finally did, she realized the simple truth; for the second time this evening – Klaus Mikaelson was fucking messing with her.

He had to be.

"Damn." Bonnie said in a low, cool, voice. "Way to go that extra mile man."

Klaus looked puzzled by the unamused look painted on her face.

"Hex-cuse moi?" He asked, completely serious in his delivery of the phrase that originated on Season 6 episode 12 of _What a Wiccan Thing To Do._

Bonnie decided to spell it out for him, let him in on her pretty impressive deductive skills.

"Googling _actual_ episodes from some dumb kids' show just for a lame joke at the expense of a totally beneath you, former television actress. Real classy stuff Mr. Mikaelson."

Klaus opened his mouth to respond to the accusation, but Bonnie wasn't done. She dismissed him with a quick wave of her hand and was surprised to see him comply in shutting his mouth. The sneering face of his, however, remained unchanged.

"I mean it's truly embarrassing when you think about it." She said calmly, scornfully tutting at the man before her. He could look down on her all he wanted, she was earning good money whilst he lived off the legacy of his rich, famous, filmmaker daddy like the propped-up poster boy for privilege he was. Bonnie Bennett was proud of her achievements. She graduated the harsh business of being a child actor, with hardly any scars.

Right this second, she felt as powerful as Grams promised she would be.

 _I'm gonna eviscerate this motherfucker._

"Stop embarrassing yourself dude." Bonnie said a look of absolute pity on her face for the man in front of her and all that unhappiness he must carry to want to chop down others. "You're better than this. Or at least you should be."

With nothing more to add, Bonnie simply waited for Klaus's move. But it didn't come, instead he watched her for a while, his scrutinizing eyes canvasing every inch of her face until satisfied by something only he knew.

Then Klaus simply nodded as if in agreement with her, his own face now a portrait of child-like innocence.

"Not as embarrassing as having actually watched those episodes."

He shrugged sheepishly but Bonnie was hardly convinced.

"Sure." Bonnie said with a yawn.

 _Fucking sinister cherub looking bastard._

The ruse continued with Klaus appearing positively energized by the challenge of convincing Bonnie that he, hipster indie cinema darling turned totally method madman from the Mikaelson Dynasty of undeniable artists, was in fact a closeted fan of children programming.

"I mean how else could I so effortlessly point out to you that –" He crooned.

Before continuing to make his point, Klaus grabbed her by the shoulders and brusquely turned her entire body towards his desired angle, positioning himself behind her as her obligated guide.

"– that person, right over there –"

Bonnie tried to follow his forefinger as it zeroed in on one of the many tuxed up male guests in this joint. Unfortunately, she could hardly focus with Klaus's arm casually draped over her shoulder, his prickly cheek once more pressed against hers.

"– Is the victim of your spell in said episode so wittily titled Hex-cuse Moi."

Once the surprise of the intimacy between them had worn off, blood began drain from Bonnie's face.

"Kai."

"Indeed." Klaus breathed, unaware of how Bonnie's guarded body suddenly sank further into his. He was practically the only thing holding Bonnie up right at that point. Yet he remained utterly oblivious to anything other than the shits and giggles he seemed to do this for.

"The Kai Parker," Klaus continued to narrate. "Known to viewers of your little show as the mysterious new classmate Chris Wood; secretly a fellow practitioner of the craft and your character Kat Graham's _will-they-won't-they_ throughout the series."

White noise. Everything he'd just said to her. White noise.

"Spoiler alert – They don't."

Once the feeling returned to Bonnie's legs she took the opportunity to try fleeing the scene. Eyes still on Kai Parker and her heart hammering at her chest, she shoved away Klaus before he could return to barricading her into the corner they'd been occupying.

"Oh, come now! It's all just harmless banter." He laughed, following her whilst trying to appease her once again, by letting her glimpse his lighter side. "You must work on your sense of humor little witch."

But Bonnie had no words for him.

Not with Kai in the same room as her.

She needed to get out of here. Except all of a sudden, she couldn't.

Kai appeared to be everywhere at once, working the room with the nauseating slickness she knew all too well and, in the process, blocking all escape routes.

She was stuck with no option but to retrace her steps, with Klaus still on her heel trying coax her out of what must've looked to him as her sulking.

Bonnie felt panic rise inside her chest. For the first time tonight, despite all the attempts made, she was finally boxed in by a man.

Klaus continued yammering on, not to her but to a statue of the person she used to be.

Bonnie Bennett was gone. Petrified by her powerlessness, a panicked child was now occupying the empty husk her soul used to inhabit.

Bitter tears were stinging at her eyes, threatening to spill and betray her every secret, about a man she wished to forget, to a man she barely knew. Still every bit Sheila Bennett's granddaughter, Bonnie continue to fight them with every fiber of her existence. Instead of openly weeping, she tried to tune into Klaus's voice, ironically the only thing anchoring her to this plane of existence at this point.

"Fine. I confess." He said ready explain his trick with the episode titles. "I caught a few reruns on the telly when I went to visit my brother Kol during his most recent stint in rehab. I suppose heroin wasn't the only bad habit he picked up."

Bonnie force a grim smile at the bleak joke but it was as unfunny as Kol Mikaelson's spectacularly well-documented descent into an addiction hell. Something behind the flippancy of those words the young musician's elder brother spoke, told Bonnie that sometime ago, Klaus too, learned all too well what powerlessness and fear looked like.

Things can't have been easy for him.

Bonnie almost wished she had the ability to connect with this almost human version of Klaus sitting beneath the surface, except right now all she could manage was the thought that perhaps he existed.

Nothing else mattered except not being on Kai Parker's radar.

She was right to worry about herself. Done thanking his initial welcoming party, a decidedly bored, Kai Parker swiftly moved on to the next section of the room – inching closer to Bonnie in her safe space.

"No, no, no." Bonnie whispered retreating fully into the corner that had become her haven this night full of surprises. She turned her back fully on Klaus, Kai and the rest of the room making sure to focus on the white marble of the wall almost touching her nose, while she worked on her breathing.

 _Get it together you stupid little bitch._

Unsuccessful and still quietly gasping for air, Bonnie felt her airway grow more constricted by rage. Pure unshakable fury. At herself as much as at Kai. At her and everything that she let happen since.

Everything leading up to this shameful, painful moment.

Shaking, Bonnie squeezed her eyes shut, trying not to spiral.

But the complete meltdown she was certain she'd been heading towards never came. Instead, she felt a pair of strong hands on her shoulders – dragging her, kicking and screaming, back from the edge.

Whilst she had entirely forgotten him, Klaus hadn't forgotten her. He had followed her as she paced back and forth, went round and round in circles, and went almost nuts trying to work out what to do. By now Klaus stood behind her in silence, his hands holding her body still, grasping her tightly before turning her once – this time to face him.

"What is the matter with you?" He asked sounding genuinely concerned by the look of terror Bonnie knew she no longer had the strength to disguise.

"Speak to me Bonnie."

Unable to comply with his request and with nowhere else to shelter her expression, Bonnie moved closer, using Klaus's frame as a barrier to keep the shark currently circling the ballroom at bay.

Peeking up from his shoulders and into the blue of his eyes, Bonnie had no option but to share the true extent of her vulnerability. Finally managing to articulate her desperate situation, she began pleading with the man who so eagerly played the part of a playground bully all evening.

"I need to get out of here. Like now."

"Please. Get me out of here." She said begging Klaus to spare her from having to face Kai Parker or any other bogeymen threatening to blast in from her past.

"Then come with me."

And without a moment of hesitation, Bonnie Bennett grabbed the open hand Klaus Mikaelson extended; clasping tightly, choosing to disappear to wherever he decided to take her.


	3. Chapter 3

_A/N: It's long. It soooo drags. But at least it's here. TW: Mention of death/suicide._

 **3\. Three**

They walked in silence. The young actress in front of him, huddled up in his arms as he directed her through an obstacle course made up of swaying guests. As they entered the final leg of the night, a desperate DJ stepped up his efforts, blasting music appealing to waning legs one last time.

After finally having delivered them both to the privacy of the concierge's front desk (and with minimal interference from any loiters in the venue's large lobby), Klaus impatiently ushered the valet to return to him his black Aston Martin Vanquish. _Fast._ There was the grave matter of a shaking woman in want of whisking away; and naturally, ever the leading man at a moment's notice, Niklaus Mikaelson was _dying_ to be of assistance.

It felt odd. That unearned intimacy between them.

Bonnie Bennett, so small and exposed; and Klaus, determined to keep peeling at the layers until she appeared without a thread of cover.

Yet the sudden way their sniping subsided made him wonder if maybe – perhaps – there could be a second chance at a more favourable first impression.

Almost instantly embarrassed by the ridiculous notion of him being required to make any sort of adjustment or impression, Klaus cast the sappy thought aside.

This was Elijah's doing.

Or any of the others.

Those damned detractors and the low regard with which they held him.

Klaus had always found spite to be an excellent motivator, except thanks to the champagne lending a hand in fuzzing up his thoughts, he couldn't quite work out what on earth it was he was trying to prove on this exact night. On any ordinary day, no matter how inebriated, he'd always have enough nous left to barricade against any dangerous ideas a weak heart may have. Meet the forces gathering at the base of skull, head on, and cut them down without mercy. Stop himself from doing silly trite things such as slipping away from his own celebration for the sake of impressing a girl.

 _A girl._

Yet Klaus could do little to deny it; something had changed upon observing the overwhelming pain on Bonnie Bennett's face. The quick, cruel death of that airy little laugh he quite liked. Those blazing eyes worryingly wet and weepy. That firestorm which had so quickly excited him, suddenly snuffed out. All put together, such a pathetic picture had the power to pull at his chest, instantly inspiring an untried impulse

He actually wanted to help this girl.

Get her far enough away from here so he could once again poke and prod until this frightful cocoon burst and _the_ Bonnie Bennett emerged, hopefully ready to take a second stab at that magical, made for syndication, sitcom banter he unashamedly sought after.

Make their own laugh track to muffle the sobering realities of unscripted life.

Klaus frowned a little as their carriage finally approach.

But then what? Where would they go? And more importantly, would she stay with him? Or without any polite notice, just up and go. Cut her losses, just as his dear brother had.

The clock ran out. The moment for deliberation gone as Klaus was confronted by the bane of his daily existence – flashes of white light in the distance brewing up a terrible storm of tabloid scandal.

Of course the parasites would've congregated to catch a glimpse of his court. Klaus groaned inwardly, feeling disappointed twice over – once for momentarily forgetting this detail and then for remembering.

The paparazzi, or more accurately those unable to deceive their way to legitimate press status or forcibly gain access to his guest list, had set up their own party across the street. Careful to adhere to the minimum distance required to avoid any altercations and additional days in court (and Heaven knows how Klaus enjoyed those); three men and a woman took a flurry of hurried photos of their favourite meal ticket.

Klaus rolled his eyes, imagining the gleeful eyes cowardly hidden behind monstrously oversized contraptions, hideously glued to where a human face ought to have been. On his own, each snap of him was worth a decent sum but whenever a beautiful woman was involved the rate tripled.

He was certain the bidding for any pictures taken tonight would be especially high.

Klaus turned to his right. Bonnie, still in a state of quiet distress, thankfully hadn't noticed the vampires. Best to keep it as such by disappearing quickly.

Unfortunate for them both however, was that this latest unfortunate development meant Klaus's plans were in drastic need of amending. He couldn't very well risk a high-speed pursuit with a valued asset of the Disney corporation in the passenger seat.

 _Oh won't you think of the children Niklaus!_

Klaus let escape a small but grim laugh at his favourite past-time, pulling out from the depth of his memory a rather unkind impression of stuffy, proper, pain in the arse Elijah.

But with none of the awkwardness of having to admit defeat to a flesh and bone version of his brother, Klaus was free to heed the words of caution offered by his figment.

"No bother." He called out, finally having made up his mind to return inside and thus throwing back the keys to the man who'd just delivered them to him. Klaus casually waved his hand over the car, attempting to deflect any questions with a masterful performance of his usual indifference. "I have no need for this now. Take it back."

"And once again, need I remind you – be _gentle_."

He received a swift nod from a quaking man familiar with the implied consequences. To Klaus that terrified trembling was just a perk he got to enjoy after all the diligent work he put in to consistently educating his fellow man, wherever he went. He watched as the valet and car disappeared at once, then turned to deal with the wrath of a woman he knew to be unlearned and unafraid.

"Why?" Bonnie shouted angrily at the apparent act of betrayal. Klaus withdrew slightly so as to avoid any possibility of being struck in the face.

Still composed but only barely – Bonnie spared him.

Cautious not to indulge the oglers and sadly unsure how long Bonnie's self-restrained would last, Klaus carefully positioned himself with his back to the cameras before answering in a low whisper.

"Why should we be the ones to abscond into the night like bandits? I swear to you love, nothing but merriment awaits – should you choose return with me." Klaus said ensuring his voice was soft and sweet enough to assuage her fears, offering up the sincere and practical solution of support against Parker.

One word from her and the buffoon should find himself flung out on his arse, free to model on this very curb for the long-lensed vermin he so adored.

"I won't leave your side Bonnie."

But Bonnie perceptive eyes signalled to him she saw through to his core. The man they all sensed him to be. She saw through this obvious glitch in his programming, all the way through to the selfish curiosity under the surface inspiring such chivalry.

"No." She answered predictably, inviting a sad smile from him.

Yes, there was a story here, Klaus could admit that whilst focussing in on the beautifully pained face before him. A story he _desperately_ hoped to know. Meanwhile, was it so hard to believe that his instinct to protect her ran just as deep as his desire to distract himself from the foul mood his bothersome brother had left him in?

"Then perhaps I can offer you an alternative solution. One more agreeable to you."

And for the second time that night, Klaus Mikaelson took hold of Bonnie Bennett's hand in a bid to lead her to a safer haven.

When they finally arrived at their new much more discreet location, a private penthouse located within the same building, Klaus couldn't help but show off a little. After all, leading a life of luxury meant he had the luxury to do so.

The noticeably awe-struck young woman in his company drank in the immaculate interior of the space. He followed the music of Bonnie's heels connecting with the limestone tiles. As she took lead, soft yellow lights fixed high above were coming to life to greet her and celebrate her bravery. She didn't have to travel too far from him to explore, her eyes doing most of the work, scanning the entire open space all the way to high glass walls revealing a fully furnished outdoor seating area and a sky pool in the distance.

"Make yourself at home." Klaus called out, pointing towards the richly black Edelman leather sofas as he made a beeline to the built-in butler bar. He was about to pour two glasses of _something comforting_ for them, when it dawned on him mixing drink and despair may appear slightly predacious to his watchful guest. Instead, Klaus returned to Bonnie's side holding a less sinful (and therefore much less fun) bottle of mineral water which she politely accepted.

"Thanks."

A genuine warm smile spread across his face at the tiny one he spotted her lips were failing to fight back.

"I usually keep this space for the after party. A handful of noteworthy individuals, for light debate followed by much needed debauchery. However…seeing how deeply loathed I am by everyone and their mum at this point in time– a fact my dear brother reminded me of a couple hours ago – I'd rather put it to better use tonight."

Again, Bonnie thanked him, causing his chest to swell up like a balloon.

Klaus knew the automatic, monosyllabic, society taught reply shouldn't have warranted such a reaction from him; yet there was a potent power in being able to receive Bonnie Bennet's praise. Perhaps he could set himself a new challenge and keep a tally of exactly how much gratitude he could gross over the course of the night.

"To harbouring fugitives." Klaus said raising his own bottle of water for a toast.

Bonnie resisted to clink plastic, choosing instead to roll her eyes at the bon mot.

"I'm not a fugitive."

Klaus shrugged his shoulders, the glint in his eyes still very much intent on teasing her at the cost of the night's takings.

He glugged down his drink partly in bid to appear unconcerned about the way she left him hanging and partly to try and rehydrate enough so he could have his wits about him before attempt to engage with Bonnie once more. She stood with her own bottle unopened, stealing subtle glances just as he was.

Once his thirst had been managed, Klaus lazily swiped at his wet mouth, his left hand unable to mop up each rebellious drop he let carelessly slid down his chin and onto the naked flesh peeking out from the top of his loosened-up shirt.

"Well…" He said sensing Bonnie's discomfort at the intentional combination of silence, staring and so-close-together-standing.

"Now that I have obliged you so, will you – at the very least – grace me with an explanation as to why we have been banished from my own party."

Bonnie hesitated for a moment before turning her face away and answering in a low voice.

"I don't need to see him."

Klaus's jaw tensed at the distance she insisted on putting between them. Screwing back on the lid, he disposed of his bottle by frustratingly flinging it onto a nearby armchair, where it landed with a soft thud.

"That much I gathered."

She appeared unable to get comfortable with him, her body still on high alert as she slowly began pacing the room whilst aiming to maintain the guise of leisurely browsing the full stocked bookshelves.

It was frustrating. The hold that idiot Parker seemed to have over this woman. A woman, Klaus, in the short span of time they'd become acquainted, assumed was fearless.

"Rest assured, there is no _tail_ in need of _shaking_ here." Klaus promised again urging her to take a seat on any of the numerous chairs in the room.

Bonnie however denied him once more, continuing to evade him by staying constantly on the move.

A little heavier handed and a little more in character, Klaus proceeded to press harder.

"As an objective third party observer, I find the only thing pursuing you at this moment is your personal demons regarding Mr. Parker."

She appeared to tense at his direct reference to her co-star, halting in a stride long enough for Klaus to close the gap between them. Good, he thought, pleased with the result of the harsher tactic he chose to employ. Perhaps now she would be more open to his assistance, whilst he was still gracious enough to be offering it.

"Demons," Klaus continued in a slow purposeful drawl, inching nearer and nearer until able to see the specific shades of brown – from dark to light – of each individual hair strand on the back of Bonnie's head. Klaus observed the beginnings of a couple of soft curls marching out of time, at odds with the rest of her perfectly placed and professionally straightened locks; and he wondered, how many more would join their marvellous little mutiny by morning.

With her back to her, Klaus had to guess what was going on inside Bonnie's head. Instead his mind was preoccupied with the way her thin shoulders rose and fell as she breathed in and out more deeply. Charmed by the rhythm, Klaus's own breath followed hers – his nose taking in the scent of sweet feminine fragrance on her skin. It was warm and comforting, like rich berries in a summer fruit crumble drowned in smooth vanilla custard. Meant for consumption during the blackest of winters, to heat the soul and stain the corners of your mouth a bloody red.

She turned to face him, without any warning and almost startled him.

 _Almost._

"These demons. I'd be glad to exorcise them for you if you could just make them more corporeal, love."

The sequence continued on whilst she was facing him – that up then down, in then out – until Klaus interrupted it by gently resting his hands atop Bonnie's shoulders, commanding them to steady.

She didn't gasp for him.

His disappointed eyes watched her doubtful ones, unable to win them over; her silence just about to start reminding Klaus that his patience was a finite resource in need of constant replenishing.

"Details Bonnie." He said, following up with a more insistent growl he knew he would come to regret. "I demand them."

Klaus found his planned interrogation aborted quite suddenly. However, not by any hostility of Bonnie's but by the gentle interruption of beeping coming from somewhere on her person. It was the sound of an incoming text message, she chose to immediately answer.

Phone in hand and pushing past him, her shoulders savagely cut across his chest like a rugby player's.

After a silent second, Bonnie let out a furious scream.

Shaking with rage, her livid eyes were glued to the screen.

Intrigued, Klaus approached her to peer over her shoulder pryingly. Unfortunately, he was unable to catch the communication in its entirety when Bonnie once again shrieked.

"Argh! Damn it Alaric! Thanks for the heads up asshole." She cursed upon having fully read the script herself, angrily smashing down her water on the marble counter in front of her. Not having noticed him walk up behind her, Bonnie bumped flat into his chest as she turned around.

"How about a little personal space?" She said her tone acerbic as she lashed out at him for the sins of another.

Hardly offended Klaus obliged, cordially stepping out of the way but not before mockingly putting both hands up and throwing her a wink.

Bonnie ignored him, angrily pressing away at the keyboard on her phone screen.

Alaric Saltzman, Klaus knew the man as well as he did every agent who tried their luck at claiming him as a prize. For a time, Klaus toyed with the idea of striking up an alliance with the man, before quickly recognising that Saltzman's body of work, in all its underwhelming mediocrity wouldn't have been well-suited to Klaus's needs.

Not in the long run anyway.

Klaus wickedly grinned, thinking back to wholesome redheaded he freed from a potential life sentence as the second Mrs. Saltzman; realising that for a short while, there was a need the agent – or to put more accurately the agent's fiancée – did satisfy.

His indulgence and mischief however had cost him in a way. Word got round and no agent in this town since managed to last beyond a couple of weeks managing Klaus. Each finding him too – what was it that Josh said – _"mega intense and scary like a medieval torture expert guy"_.

It was a gratifying sacrifice, if undertaken solely to punish Saltzman for his insolence. For the crime of daring to believe he and Klaus could be equals, the actor extracted his revenge most viciously. Taking from the man the love of his life, compelling her to lose herself in a moment of weakness, debasing her and discarding her. Still, it took just that on time of mixing pleasure and business for Klaus to see how quickly most fled from him.

Afraid of joining the pile of bodies he left in his wake.

Young Joshua must've been a glutton for punishment when he signed on with Klaus. Since the Saltzman affair, the pitiful boy had the pleasure of pulling double duty on all of the actor's booking needs. Naturally, he did this collaborating with the patient people at William Morris Endeavour.

Done sending her text, Klaus wondered if Bonnie's displeasure meant she could someday be persuaded to leave that dullard agent of hers and join him at the rival agency. Except, he quickly realised, that would require her to start viewing him in a much different light.

She must've been distracted enough by the unpleasant news she received, it slipped her mind to hold him to account for his earlier pushy behaviour. This would've been an ideal time to cease testing the patience of his guest, yet wholly undeterred and his impulsive nature getting the best of him, Klaus continued.

"Still waiting love."

"Look Klaus," Bonnie said finally snapping at him; the woman before him, far away from the timid, torn up creature he needed to coax into that lift. "Thank you for the rescue but you can return to your party. Okay? I'll be out when I'm ready."

This Bonnie, the one prone to turn on her heel and storm away from him, required a far more delicate touch. "Perhaps I can make arrangements to have you returned to your place of residence?" Klaus offered in a plea to appear reasonable.

But Bonnie didn't need a moment to muse over his suggestion. Shaking her head immediately but looking somewhat despondent about having to do so, she replied weakly.

"No. I can't. Not after tonight."

With another piece of the puzzle in his possession yet somehow saddened by what it held, Klaus wavered a little.

"Then I have a suggestion you may find either entirely pleasing or wholly preposterous."

"Stay here."

It was out there now. That dangerously weak heart of his finally successful in its intended coup; and Klaus's deepest desire for company – a secret no more.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes." Klaus replied fully committed to this idiocy now.

Bonnie took another look at the grand apartment he'd just made available to her. "I guess this is okay."

Catching herself venturing into a territory occupied by the far more ill-mannered, Bonnie tried again – a little more enthusiastic this time. "Good even. I mean – it's good. Thank you, Klaus."

Another Bonnie Bennett _thank you_ for Klaus's book. The idle angel on his shoulder sure had an unusually amount to brag about tonight.

"Well, not so fast." Klaus added, reminding Bonnie there were terms attached to his offer. "I cannot vouch for what kind of pay there is in television but there are a few items here that'll fetch a pretty penny online. Morbidity of fame I suppose."

Deciphering his meaning with narrowed eyes, Bonnie finally conceded.

"Fine stay if you must."

"Just don't bother me okay?"

Klaus clapped his hands together jubilantly. "Now we're finally seeing eye to eye, I'd like to revisit my earlier queries."

He walked over to the largest sofa and sat, his hand outstretched hovering over the space next him where he'd visualised she should be. "Come sit with me."

Bonnie let out an ironic laugh at the proposal. "You gotta be kidding me!"

"You're not gonna trick me into some ridiculous Dr. Phil situation Klaus." She promised with a resolute look on her face.

Klaus lazily stretched his arms out above him and yawned, before satisfyingly settling his back against the soft cushions further. He then cast a relaxed smile in Bonnie's direction, hoping to entice her to come do the same. Her day must've started as early as his, if not earlier.

"Come now, you've been standing in those heels for long enough love."

"No way. No matter how comfortable the couch, I refuse to share it with you." Bonnie repeated.

Frustrated, Klaus grabbed the soft white throw pillows, snatching them out from under him and busily began rearranging them. Without looking at her he muttered under his breath what he knew could only be received as a menacing attempt at intimidation.

"I'll be sure to send Kai Parker your most affectionate greetings when I go then."

Once again, Klaus made sure to use his full name for effect.

Dissatisfied with the thought of missing her reaction, Klaus put away his angry pout and turned to face Bonnie, adding with a sneer. "I so did enjoy him in this summer's must-see superhero flick. Really remarkable how far he's come from his humble beginnings as a teenage witch."

Bonnie did not blink. It looked as though she'd been inoculated to his mean mouth after the first incident. Klaus was about to try something different to get that reaction he craved when she cut him off.

"Why are you doing this?" She demanded, completely throwing him.

"Why are you fucking with me?"

Not sure how to reply to such a straightforward question, Klaus hid behind a mocking gasp of shock and opted to childishly mutter about her use of foul language instead. Unfortunately, the aggravated actress firmly stayed on topic.

"All night in fact! Do you even see what you're like?"

All of a sudden, Klaus had been stunned into silence by her more measured tone and the crashing waves of righteous rage radiating from her threatening to batter his unprotected body.

This was nothing like he'd ever dealt with before. Similar words from his siblings often fell short because of their own failings being so laughably apparent to him. No, blasted Jiminy Crickets would seldom manage to escape without being mercilessly crushed by his fist.

Yet here was Bonnie and having a bloody good go!

And it was different, he noted. Her inquires into his very character held no pretence of a search for higher moral reasoning. She didn't care to teach him anything or even win for that matter. She just plain and simple wanted to know.

Demanded to know.

 _Why was he, Klaus Mikaelson, fucking with her?_

It was a brilliantly phrased little question, simple in every way and yet something told Klaus he was in no way capable of delivering the complexity of its answer.

With no response coming her way any time soon, Bonnie groaned, wearily throwing her arms up in the air.

Her annoyance flared up once more when Klaus made the mistake of smiling. Her eyes flashed widely in disbelief at the action.

"Why are you grinning like a villain? Have you really nothing better to do?"

Ready to incur another deadly glare, Klaus was surprised to see her face soften.

"Come on man, why all this," She whined in response to this uncharacteristic quietness she had to endure from him. "I don't even know you."

The plainly said statement, a desperate final attempt at trying appeal to his better nature. There are protocols in civilised societies, she beseeched him The pools of hazel staring back at him called for the decency to mind one's own bloody business.

Except, that's where Bonnie Bennett had gone wrong.

Klaus Mikaelson, more beast than man, was hardly civilised.

"Oh don't be daft." He laughed for a second time, crossing his arms under his head casually, further propping up the pillows. "Of course, you know me. Everyone does."

"Great." Bonnie said, her face clearly regretting her efforts to try and reach him. Klaus frowned a little at how easily she gave up. "So where'd your babysitter go? The big brother?"

Her casual mentioning of Elijah replicated the same discomfort Kai Parker's did. Klaus shifted awkwardly in his seat and Bonnie noticed.

"Oh wow. You're all of a sudden bored of twenty questions when it's your turn?" Bonnie said with a sneer ugly on her pretty face.

Determined not to lose to her, Klaus answered frankly. "He should be where he prefers to be. Back in his hotel room in a deep untroubled slumber. Miles away from here. From me." He said bitterly.

His earnest confession as to the reason for his aloneness had an unexpected outcome.

A sudden crash and the empty space next to him became occupied.

Bonnie let out a tired sigh, appearing exhausted by everything leading up to the moment to collapsed down next to him. It was odd having her choose to not only sit, but then to do so closely.

As her thigh pressed against Klaus's, he turned his head slightly to get a better look at the profile of her face. Her heavily lashed eyelids were shut as she inhaled deeply, sinking further into the comforting cool leather. Using just the tip of her toes, she flicked off her right shoe followed by the left. Her perfectly pedicured and painted toes then giving a little victory wiggle.

"It's a nice couch." She hummed, her still lids shut.

"It is." Klaus chuckled.

"So jerk brother huh?" Bonnie asked, her eyes opening to look around the room as if she had misplaced something.

Up close, Klaus noticed slightly dry flakes of darkly stained skin peeling off insides of her lips, revealing a fleshy pink in contrast to the impeccable matte coat of chestnut brown from earlier this evening.

Without being asked, Klaus found himself on his feet and heading to the counter, returning with her discarded bottle in his hand. Again, she thanked him when he opened it for her and Klaus counted that as being five now in his favour.

"Jerk brother." He concurred taking his seat once more.

"And what of your handler? Your agent, Saltzman was it?"

Bonnie's mood soured at the mention of the man. "Urgh, just found out he ditched me to deliver his twins."

Klaus was surprised at her answer.

Why the old bugger sure bounced back rather marvellously! So, it was two sets of tiny feet, and not his own cold ones that kept Alaric Saltzman away this evening. But why instead of being elated for her mentor, was Bonnie Bennett clearly furious? Surely there had to be some greater transgression than this? Or was she a far pettier person than Klaus had realised.

"What a monster." He said mockingly.

Bonnie snorted. "Yeah well, he could've drop a warning he was going to be leaving me with one."

"Poppycock! I've been a perfect gentleman."

When Bonnie allowed herself to giggle at his exaggerated exasperation for even a second, Klaus noted how his ears, coming through the other side of a severe joyless drought, were beginning to grow fond of the sunny sound.

"Like hell you have." She said slipping on a brief smile, comfortable enough to lazily slap the side of his thigh with the back of her hand without really looking at him. The impression left by her touch tingled for a moment thrilling him. Then the smile, just as easily slipped from her face leaving nothing but a pool of quiet bitterness in her eyes.

"I didn't mean you." Bonnie added in a low whisper, unblinking eyes gazing into the distance.

Klaus inhaled deeply, the solemn air between them thick and heavy.

Alaric Saltzman's failings finally revealed _._

 _A heads up._

"Kai Parker." He said without even the faintest hint of a sneer. She hadn't anticipated on him being at the party. Alaric must've withheld that information from her.

"Yep."

Klaus shook his head sadly, trying on for size the part of a supportive friend. "He seems like such a prince too. Making the rounds at children's wards in his silly tights and cape."

"Well what do you want me to say? That Disney money got him playing you all 24/7 okay?" Bonnie retorted, straightening up.

Klaus knew he'd gone wrong, his attempts at sincerity rang false.

"Okay." He said yielding to her and hoping she'd return to that almost tranquil state of earlier, teasing him with a touch or two.

But it wasn't to be. As if only just slowly waking from a hazy dream and suddenly aware of her surroundings, Bonnie Bennett's guard came up in full force.

"Are you friends with him?"

It was Klaus's turn to jolt awake.

"Excuse me?"

"I said are you friends with him?" She demanded more sternly.

Klaus's chuckles were dismissive. "Why? Did he pass along a lovely little handwritten note asking us to be mates love?"

Bonnie shot up.

On her feet and at a distance, she repeated herself.

"I mean it Klaus. I need to know."

"Are you friends?"

"No." He said but by the time he answered they'd returned to their earlier roles. "Bloody hell. I said no didn't!"

To his horror, Bonnie would not abide.

In one swift motion, Klaus rose also. Back to facing off with Bonnie, but now with a much greater height advantage than the barefoot actress.

"We hardly travel similar circles. Just the overcrowded ones in need of a good cull if you ask me."

Sensing she needed more than that Klaus decided to spell out for her exactly how he felt about the Kai Parkers of the world.

"I never thought of him as anything but a self-centred, man-child with mediocre flair for the arts yet an unmatched need for constant attention."

He was met with raised eyebrows from the young woman.

"Don't look at me like that!" He insisted growing increasingly irritated she would continue to question him. "I mean it love. Believe me, we have nothing in common. He's a hack. A Buzzfeed quiz favourite, constantly clamouring for followers across his social media like a harlot."

Finally, Bonnie grinned a little. "Hashtag blessed." She quipped in a voice much too heavy to be actually humorous.

Finally, Klaus watched as she settled back into her seat and convinced he did enough to ease her her doubts about him, followed.

"Well, I guess you know better than anyone not to believe what you read in the papers." Bonnie observed, her head turning to face him. Her nose may as well have be touching his cheek but Klaus was too troubled by the mystery she still hid from him to take any joy in his triumph.

"On the contrary love, when it comes to me, I must urge you – believe every word." He said completely unironically.

"Even Carol Lockwood?"

"I – sorry – I didn't meant to – " Bonnie stammered her face utterly changed by the dark weight behind those words. Her mouth slammed shut; Klaus's grim look, a judge's gavel coming down on hard on such the feeble defence her lips were aspiring to form.

"I don't know why I said that."

The choppy waves threatening to form above Klaus's brows instantly settled, the flood of emotion never quite reaching the shores of his eyes. Gripped by the eerie stillness of a drowning victim, he sat unresponsive.

There was hardly any point to it. The pens dripped in poison had done their job, effectively killing this conversation as it had the one with Elijah.

"The topic exhausts me." A whisper of life left in him confessed.

Klaus shifted in his seat slightly ready to resist any and all of Bonnie's resuscitation attempts. He expected a taste of his own medicine; bracing himself for a barrage of prying questions meant to unsettle.

Bonnie, far kinder and empathetic he thought the descendants of Adam could ever be, simply decided to nod.

"I understand."

Understanding. His heart ached a little at the prospect of such a thing – he was the keeper of far less publicised ghost stories. Ones good souls would greatly struggle with.

"How could you possibly love."

 _Gallons of redness spilling over the sides and onto the tiles, setting Klaus up to lose his footing and fall when he found her. A bathtub transformed into an overfilled wine glass. His mother, always such a careless drinker, had decidedly drained herself. The shirt he wore that day suddenly a bib, soaking up the mess she left for him as Klaus lost consciousness on the floor._

 _Last thought on his mind?_

 _She finally did it._

 _Escaped them all to other side._


	4. Chapter 4

**4\. Four.**

"How could you possibly love."

There was a sadness in his voice. As soon as Bonnie heard it, she knew what was about to follow would ruin them both.

"Tell me."

Her words cut through all that initial awkwardness and without permission begun hacking away at the ropes of respectability – the very last things holding back secrets the size of logs they each carried on their back.

Klaus Mikaelson cleared his throat and Bonnie Bennett braced herself for impact. Every instinct telling her to proceed with caution was instantly done away with.

 _Girl no, if you push him, he'll push back. Is that what you really want?_

One shot to the back with a silencer and then Bonnie went ahead, called out to the strangely vulnerable creature, peering back from behind windows glazed over and guarded.

"If you want you can tell me."

The extended look they shared after her careful words gave Bonnie full view to the indecision twisting up inside Klaus. She witnessed a deep frown form; his pink lips choose to disappear rather than let themselves unburden. She heard that deeply disappointing dry laugh of his coming from a mile away. When it finally left his throat, a sad nod was waiting to welcome it.

"Oh no," he said, "not when things were just about to get interesting on your end love."

Shutters down, creatures caged, and the natural order restored.

This was a mistake, being here with him was a mistake.

The familiar exasperating grin Klaus insisted on next as he resumed his own interrogation screamed at Bonnie to cut her losses. _Just go and forget whatever it was you thought you saw._

Pity the rest of her simply wouldn't accept this.

"I'm a good listener." She said, trying again.

The sadness. It called out much louder now, begging to made hers with a promise of familiarity and fullness. Selfish as it was, Bonnie knew what she wanted – his pain and none of her own.

Except Klaus would never allow it.

Whatever it was she saw behind those eyes of his had scurried away, leaving empty windows tinted an indifferent shade of blue.

It must've heeded a warning Bonnie just wouldn't.

Klaus chuckled softly. "Feeling quite plucky I see."

 _You're an idiot Bennett._

The night's events turned out to be a perfect antidote for both vanity and common sense.

It was no wonder then that Klaus mistook her desperation for daring. After all, it had kept her entire being alive for so long.

But battling a legion of ghosts as they rushed to the forefront, had undoubtedly, at times, distracted Bonnie from the wider world. Too busy trying to make sense of what went on inside to in fact notice how others, on the outside, may perceive her. Too absorbed by memories she thought she could put to bed but then stole sleep from her instead.

Now freshly resurrected and relentless in their assault, they pushed against the inside of her skull and with almost enough force to split bone.

Almost and always just _almost_ – because she, Bonnie Bennett, had bravely held out.

However, there was a cost to surviving a daily siege and it meant there would be spells where Bonnie needed to check out. Not much of a multitasker even on her better days, the young actress accepted that during the worst she'd have to prioritize; unable to simultaneously, hear out her gut, nurse her fragile heart and catch her breath as it fled her lungs. In the end, being _busy_ sometimes left the rest of her quaking and defenseless.

It was at that moment that Klaus Mikaelson stretched out his hand and Bonnie's mind fell silent as she took hold of it and escaped.

He led her here, to this apartment, shut the door on the dangers of the outside world and made the busy things vanish for a while. Bonnie was grateful to him and yet the doubts returned even stronger, her gut warning her that the dizzying draw of peace and privacy could dull her senses just as the draining ghosts had.

Klaus's eyes never once left her face, the smile he displayed reminiscent of a shrewd merchant ready to set a price Bonnie had no intention of ever paying.

"Tell us your tale then. I am certain you'll make it a good one." 

It should bother her, how casually he spoke about her and her problems. As if she were a jester in his court. A clown to turn that frown he wore mere moments ago back upside down.

But Bonnie kept quiet, her thoughts elsewhere. She had caught a glimpse of a different kind of Klaus Mikaelson, one he clearly wasn't comfortable sharing with the public and she told herself this, as he continued to leer at her whilst she took her sweet time to answer.

 _Nine years since you've last felt the quiet Bonnie. Nine years, so let's hold on to it for a little longer okay?_

Thrown by that last thought, Bonnie helped herself to more water. Unable to meet Klaus's eyes as he patiently awaited her reply, she drank it all then diligently read every letter on the label of the empty bottle like it was holy scripture.

Patience, another thing Bonnie hadn't expected from Klaus. Yet the constant back and forth of their exchanges made her unsure as to how long any of it would last and how long before she'd discover exactly how exhausting the endless whiplash of their interaction could be.

"Spill the beans, would you? Share all and undo that family friendly fable constructed by Parker's people." Klaus's voice yanked Bonnie back to the room in time to prove her concerns right. Whiplash she thought grimly, he was back to pushing buttons.

Bonnie closed her eyes and reminded herself she was more than used to dealing with an industry filled with temperamental types. Klaus, despite his proclamations of specialness, was no such exception. The way she ended up lounging on his couch, however, almost untouchable by the memory of Kai was.

 _Kai._

God, he was downstairs and yet somehow, Bonnie had just unlocked the door for him.

"Oh come on. How much clearer do I need to be?" Klaus complained. But despite his indelicateness, Bonnie still believed in the promise that was made. Kai Parker couldn't get her – not here, not whilst she was with Klaus.

Yet Klaus Mikaelson's protection did little prevent mere mention of Kai's name from setting off the pounding inside her skull. Now with the door ajar, the danger felt real.

"Can we please just drop this?" She begged Klaus. "I get it, you don't wanna talk about you, I don't wanna talk about me. So let's just sit okay?"

"Fair enough. And might you opine on the subject of Mr. Parker instead?" Klaus cleverly insisted.

"After all, you must by now understand how interested I am in knowing all about my guests on a more personal level."

Bonnie swallowed hard, noticing the tone with she had been spoken to. Polite yet menacing, Klaus gave her quite the option. Her host, the so-called hero of the night, if need be, had absolutely no qualms about heading straight back downstairs to extract the truth she hid from him, straight from the horse's mouth.

Would he do it though? Bonnie couldn't tell. Her instincts had led her wrong too many times and the words of men still too changeable.

" _At the anniversary party and not once before that Ric, promise me that."_

" _A couple pictures for the fans and press and you might not have to see him for another five years."_

How would she pose for those pictures now? Now that she'd run into her co-star a month earlier than she expected, without the tools she needed to keep her cool and emerge from the encounter as unscathed as she possibly could.

First an oversight on Alaric Saltzman's part, one Bonnie was in no rush to forgive and now an act of intimidation from Klaus Mikaelson, one she was in no mood cower to.

"I have nothing to say." She asserted, inching closer to the edge of the couch and away from Klaus and by extension, Kai.

The air set like jelly, a reminder the tension between them from earlier was never truly gone.

Klaus shook his head. "Your expression earlier begs to differ love."

"So unleash."

She glanced at the door, at Klaus and back again. His face hungry for her humiliation yet arrogantly maintaining all expectation to be spared his.

It doesn't get to work like that, Bonnie thought, suddenly full of resentment for her rescuer.

"You can tell me." Said Klaus using Bonnie's words against her. When she said it was an ask, whilst his rendition, a demand barely disguised as anything else.

"Fine." After a deep breath, an unblinking Bonnie complied.

"Kai Parker is an untalented sociopath and just gets by siphoning off the success of those he attaches himself to. The four years I worked with him were without a doubt the worst of my life. So excuse me if I wish him nothing but hell in this world and the next."

When done, she was met by a curious face, one not used to coming up against a shield as tough as the one Sheila Bennett's granddaughter erected. At first, Bonnie built the structure to keep the wolves at bay, to stop them from getting at the contents of her heart. Then Kai happened, and she knew it would have to serve a second more important purpose. Protect the poor unsuspecting beasts from what only she knew lay deep in the dark. A devastating force carefully contained inside her yet still able to desperately claw at the walls of its confinement. A devasting force that threatened her entire world.

Bonnie kept it hidden because once the secrets spill over, they won't stop here, and she couldn't risk taking their poison with her outside this room. Risk contaminating everything else with the bitterness she bore. Ugly up the image she crafted, the one still playing into the homes of millions of kids each night.

Take away the warm glow of lights, the pretty picture captured by the camera and then finally, take away Bonnie Bennett as she was nothing without them all. Just a little girl unable to come to life without others calling her to action.

"How is that for personal?" she sneered. "Feel close enough to him yet?"

Bonnie sank back into her seat and out the corner of her eye watched Klaus's face. It was full of concern as he contemplated the meaning of her words. She, on the other hand, had nothing else left to try and understand.

As disappointing as it was, Klaus wanted something from her and just like everyone else, she was happy to bet her bottom dollar he wouldn't know what to do with it if he ever got it.

Little Miss Mystic Falls was capable of far uglier than they'd all be comfortable with hearing about.

"I'm out of water." She said flatly before shaking the last drops out of the empty bottle and onto the floor for Klaus to see.

He remained seated and silent.

Irritated, Bonnie chucked the bottle aside.

She waited to be reprimanded by her host but instead found him smiling at her aggression, the hideously condescending grin reached the pretty shine of his eyes.

"Salem shenanigans not up to scratch with what we the audience have been sold then?"

His eyes widened slightly when Bonnie scoffed unashamedly in response.

Numb to his words by now, she found herself once more talking about Kai Parker in a way she'd never thought possible.

"I thought I'd never escape." Bonnie said. "Once Kai joined the show, that set I came to each day as a kid morphed into a prison world. Some place they constructed for us to torture each other."

"Harsh words from such a lovely little witch."

His eyes lit up as if he were resisting the urge to applaud her and it sickened Bonnie enough to turn away from him. Looking straight ahead she waited for the question she knew was coming again.

"And pray tell, what did he do to deserve such scorn?"

When it finally came, Bonnie found herself not so forthcoming anymore.

What did you do Kai? A simply question. Yet however sharp the fragments of her memories and however painful their cuts, the answer always felt much more splintered and worse.

" _Kai?"_

" _Oh, look who's awake! How'd you feel?"_

" _Like you've dropped an anvil on my head. What did you do to me?"_

" _Right. Just a little something to take the edge off. Should pass soon."_

"I assume whatever it was, it was personal and deeply so."

Bonnie's cheeks burned as Klaus continued to speak on the matter.

"Could it be…" He said, his excited eyes growing bigger. "He broke your tiny tween heart with his bedroom-poster boyfriend smile?"

Blank stare fixed to her face, Bonnie refused to engage in the actor's game. Yet Klaus, utterly convinced he had drawn enough information from her expressionless eyes, abandoned his initial theory for a slightly revised one.

"No…things failed to develop. That is the great grievance you are grappling with." He said letting out a small chuckle. "Ah the tragedy of never actually taking that leap from on screen love interests to actual lovers."

"The agony of all that could've been."

Smug and pleased with his deduction skills, Klaus paused for her response and found no need to hazard another guess after witnessing the surge of emotion he caused within her.

Except the cold fury flooding Bonnie's face was misleading. There was no victory to be had here for a man wholly oblivious to how offensive and cruel his line of questioning had become.

Shivering on a scorching summer night, Bonnie reacted the only way she knew to – with fight _then_ flight – first violently shoving Klaus off the couch then bolting towards the door she'd been eyeing for the most part of their time together.

Somewhere behind her, she could hear him curse the pain of an unexpected cruel fall and Bonnie prayed Klaus broke something just as he tried to break her. Distracted by the urge to look back at the damage she'd done, Bonnie's feet became caught in the fabric of her long evening gown, the snare slowing her down long enough to remember there was a pair of expensive heels she had forgotten to include in her plans.

" _Hey now. We have a strict morality clause in our contract. Do you really wanna storm out like that?"_

Again, she could hear Kai's voice in her mind and Bonnie felt angry tears sting at her eyes. He had followed here. Didn't need to kick open any door for, like a guest, Klaus had let him in.

Klaus promised her he would protect her. That she wouldn't have to deal with this. He had promised her, then failed. Just as Ric had. And her dad.

How pathetic of Bonnie, continuing to rely on men incapable of ever doing right by her.

Dress bunched up in her in arms and her legs finally free and naked; Bonnie decided Klaus Mikaelson could keep the shoes and his false promises. They were Enzo's anyway and she would get further without them.

She should've run. Back there at the beginning and especially, back then with Kai.

But when Bonnie finally did run, it was only to find out she wasn't strong or fast enough to outrun the busy. Loud and hungry, it started up again inside her mind. Suddenly lightheaded, she was on her way down to the floor when Klaus's hands took hold of her elbow and once more steadied her.

He appeared in front of her like a specter, no sign of harm done to anything but his pride.

"Are you okay?" Klaus asked as she found her balance.

Bonnie nodded, and the hollowed landscape of his frown turned from worry to denote intense displeasure.

"Good," he growled, "because we weren't done."

He had clearly taken issue with the imagined lack of gratitude from her. Outraged, Bonnie shoved him. Twice.

"What?" She spat back, furious and almost tearful as she struck him for a third time. "This not enough of a goodbye for you?"

Klaus took each blow she imparted without giving an inch, each respectively more powerful than the last and him, more stubborn in denying it.

Then his jaw clenched slightly on the sixth and she stopped.

"Careful now." He warned, his narrowed eyes, reminding Bonnie he was no friend.

After a moment of hesitation and her exit still blocked, Bonnie turned around and slinked back to where the couch they sat on earlier. When she turned back to face Klaus, she saw him relax a little, unprepared for the shoe she was about to send flying at him.

Bonnie's face fell when she saw the shot meant to take off Klaus's head miss, its target skillfully ducking at the last second. Upright again almost immediately after the attack, Klaus looked horrified and quite disturbed by the sudden display of violence.

As if the escalation hadn't been unearned.

Of course, he didn't think she had it in her Bonnie thought full of wrath.

Men like him never did.

She swiftly reloaded, the second shoe readied in her fist, but then held off her attack at the last minute and delivered a final warning to Klaus instead.

"Bloody hell woman! You are aware the heel on that thing could've very well blinded me!"

"Last chance!" Bonnie said, her resolve further solidified with each labored breath she took.

Klaus clapped his hands together and simply laughed.

"Well then love, you best make it count then."

Once more, whilst Bonnie was paralyzed by indecision, Klaus had leapt at the opportunity to call the shots.

What could one stupid shoe achieve here, Bonnie found her brain agreeing.

Yet any retreat would mean she would effectively resign herself to being his prisoner.

" _Get dress sleepyhead. I'm starving."_

Not again, every cell of her body screamed at the ghost slipping through the cracks. This wasn't happening again. Bonnie breathed as best as she could through the noise and the pain, her focus no longer on the man before her but the one downstairs.

As the memory of Kai made its way towards her, so did Klaus, his form suddenly able to overwhelm all things corporeal or otherwise. Slowly, the room returned, and then Bonnie did; finally seeing only one man advancing towards her but not before he stopped to scoop up her heel with his hand and wave it above his head like a white flag.

"We are quite well equipped to be playing out this wonderful little drama here, aren't we Ms. Bennett." He said with a spark of hellfire in his eyes. "So why don't we take it from the top and try again."

"Was it another failed transition that irks you instead?" Klaus posited, ignoring the way her breath continued to rattle as he stopped to stand only inches from her face.

"Was it Kai Parker, walking away from your little show and setting his sights on larger more rewarding roles and then daring to succeed that boils your blood Bonnie."

Their noses almost touched, and Bonnie shut her eyes to the scrutiny of his brighter ones. They had been unyielding and unbearable to look at, but in the end, hardly anything compared to the gentleness of his voice.

"Daring to leave you behind." She heard him say, unable to shut the verses out.

"Alone."

"Seething."

"Stuck."

His final words fell on blazing ears like a splash of gasoline, a flicker of a flame needed to breathe life into Bonnie again.

"Move aside or I will claw your eyes out of their sockets." She hissed and the murder in her eyes frightened the devil right out of his.

Klaus released her arm at once. A softness spread over his face.

"What did he do to you exactly?"

With her heart in her throat, Bonnie somehow managed to answer him.

"What you are doing right now but worse."

"And what is this terrible thing I am doing to you love?"

The earnestness with which he approached the question saw him finally succeed and secure a slice of Bonnie's secrets for himself.

"You are toying with me." She revealed, her voice even and instilled with inexplicable certainty.

"You are toying with me. Drawing me in then trying to gut me. Your games intent on making me doubt myself, wonder if I should've been smarter. If should've seen you coming."

Klaus looked taken aback but the sliver of shame and sympathy across his face had come too late for Bonnie as the unflinching frankness she'd always feared felt freeing instead.

A grim silence engulfed them and muffled the heightened emotions of earlier.

This is what happens, Bonnie told herself, the devastating force – even such a small drop of it, enough to poison the air in his lungs. This is what happens when women don't keep their secrets from the men who will never understand.

Yet across the void, their eyes connected.

When Klaus finally spoke again, his voice was unable to climb much higher than a whisper and Bonnie prepared herself for the next question.

"Did you love him?"

"No."

Another pause, brief this time.

"And he hurt you?"

"Yes." She said without hesitation.

"And you want to hurt him."

Bonnie blinked.

What she had heard was a statement, not question. No need for the answer she chose to supply.

"More than anything else in this world."

"Then, perhaps I can help you."

Again, she blinked but saw the way Klaus did not.

The windows previously occupied by such overwhelming sadness were full again. The creature she set eyes on this time didn't attempt to hide from her, instead, it were her ghosts who ceased their haunting and fled. Her busy mind momentarily restored by a man. Not the one she threw her shoe at but the one so quick to shelter her in her time of need.

He noticed Bonnie just as she had him.

"Help me how?" She asked plainly and speaking only to person under the surface.

For once, the handsome scornful smile on his face never quite reaching his eyes, Klaus Mikaelson replied.

"How else but with pain love."

"Buckets of it – enough to drown out your own."


	5. Chapter 5

**5\. Five**

"Nik! Over here!"

It took Klaus Mikaelson a moment or two as well as lowering the dark shades he wore on his face to properly identify the frantic hand waving at him from the distance. It belonged to his younger sister Rebekah, and not – as he had feared – a shrill fan, boldly attempting to lay claim to the actor, daring to summon him with a diminutive reserved for the few and favoured.

Rebekah for the most part was favoured by 'Nik', however the relief he felt seeing her stood there was short-lived.

"Wonderful." He muttered under his breath, refusing to grace the beaming blonde with the warm smile she wore for him. He knew the bubbling dissatisfaction he felt shouldn't be levelled directly at Rebekah, nor was it strictly personal, yet Klaus couldn't help it.

 _Two hours._

That's how long Klaus spent in furious debate with himself. Two hours, agonising over what to do, what to say, or how to even act around a brother nowhere to be seen. Rebekah being there made no difference; Elijah's empty space and those two hours would haunt him.

An icy anger gripped Klaus's entire body. It woke him instantly, in a fashion the blazing L.A. sun simply failed to. No longer preoccupied battling the symptoms of sleep deprivation and the strong spirits he consumed the night before, nor bogged down by fanciful ideas of reconciliation with a man now quite possibly dead to him – a grim, sober Klaus approached his sister.

Rebekah appeared to be fresh faced and full energy but did not get up from her table to meet him. As he made the long walk, Klaus noted the width of the embellished cream sun hat carefully balanced on her golden head and the stares she received from the rest of the restaurant patrons. People on this side of the city were more than used to glimpses of the rich and famous, yet most A-listers would try to fit in, come incognito as he had. Rebekah's attire on the other hand was far more suited to a day out at the Royal Ascot than a simple Californian lunch.

"Darling brother." She sang to an accompaniment of rustling earrings more windchimes than sensible jewellery, then kissed the air around his cheeks with rose tinted lips to remind Klaus how, like most Mikaelsons, his sister simply didn't do simple.

If he had been hoping for some much-needed anonymity, he knew was robbed of it the moment he saw it wasn't Elijah meeting him.

When Klaus took his seat, he put his shades back on and poured himself a glass of water. The sun was too bright out here in the garden, and he nursed a migraine. The throbbing under his temple, a consequence of a conspiracy conjured up between liquor, laxed boundaries and the lovely Ms. Bennett. An evening with an ending, Klaus had only one major regret about.

He inhaled deeply and prepared himself for the mandatory snap Rebekah would take to post across her social media.

 _She's your family_ , he told himself as he so often did.

 _Always and forever._

Picture taken, Klaus began to broach the subject on his mind, the glaring elephant missing from the room.

"I see our Elijah has taken to becoming an oath-breaker."

Sipping comfortably on her mandarin mimosa, Rebekah rolled her eyes swiftly.

"Oh, stop it Nik. You mustn't take it personally!

"He couldn't make it that is all. Work stuff."

"And say now sister – this pressing matter Elijah had to so urgently attend to – it in no way failed to prevent him from contacting you as it did me?" Klaus put to his sister dryly. "How odd."

Rebekah responded with a pearly smile. "I told him he needn't bother and that I'd be happy to pass along his apologies for him."

"Of course you did! Such self-sacrifice to forgo the many other plans you must've had. All to do Elijah's bidding." Klaus countered with a mocking smile of his own, refusing to buy into Rebekah's laughable tall tale of sudden filial obedience.

He watched as an exhausted look spread over his sister's face.

"You really intend on making this into something it's not."

"Why can't you just be pleased to see me Nik?"

"I always am." Klaus promised aiming for sincerity but unable to stop himself before adding. "No matter how curious the circumstances."

Rebekah seemed unconvinced. "It's been an age since you bothered to come round to mine. I could kick up a fuss about that. But I'm not, am I?"

Klaus raised an eyebrow wondering how it was that Rebekah managed to turn the tables so expertly and each time paint him the villain in the family. Doe eyed and downcast she continued to appeal to him to bury the unpleasantness.

"I just wanted to have a meal with my brother."

"As did I." Klaus fired back brusquely and unmoved.

"Good grief. Fine!" Rebekah said, acquiescing with a tired sigh. "He's feeling a little sore Nik. There you have it, the grand conspiracy in its entirety! He'll call you – eventually. Like he always he does."

"Meanwhile, you alright settling for little old me?"

Klaus let his bitterness subside. "Dearest Rebekah, you know very well I would gladly trade a thousand souls for a second of your company."

The warmth in Klaus's voice managed to coax the subtlest of smiles from his sister.

"Gosh, you even said it like you meant it." Rebekah replied, her bruised ego not ready yet to let him off the hook completely. In response, Klaus simply tapped on his right cheek and grinned as Rebekah – sweet predictable Rebekah, leaned in to kiss it properly this time. The sticky residue of lip gloss and ringing reprise of her earrings signalled a reset. Her grace (or more accurately – his reprieve), successfully rescued their rendezvous from turning into another full-blown row.

"Can we eat now? If you don't mind, I already ordered for us."

Accepting the peace offering, Klaus watched as Rebekah flicked her fingers to call over a server ready with their food – a selection of dishes off the brunch menu. A monstrous combination of sweet and savoury foods that had no business sharing a table. However, as Klaus took his first bite of syrup soaked French toast, he was unable to shake the feeling that the spread laid out before him was bait.

"How have you been Rebekah? In good spirits I hope." He inquired, perfectly polite but digging nonetheless as any Mikaelson would.

"Great."

"And how long will you be here for?" He continued.

It had been sometime since he'd last seen her in L.A. Having outgrown her old stomping ground, Rebekah ventured east for a period, settling in New York. Klaus was hardly pleased with her decision to practically abandon him, but as she reminded him so often, he had no means to compel her to stay by his side.

"I fly back to Miami next week."

"Miami?" Klaus repeated, unable to hide the surprise in his voice. What was his sister doing in Miami? Steady and slow in finishing the mouthful of fruit salad she'd just taken, Rebekah answered without blinking.

"Yes."

"Accompanied by the latest someone I suppose." Klaus said, his focus returned to cutting up the food on his plate. "Generous with their promises but frugal when fulfilling any of them."

"This season's glorified high-school jock." He added with a sneer that knew would get to Rebekah.

"Matt Donovan was a star running back." She said but reluctant, beyond that singular sentence, to rehash a conversation the siblings had countless times before. Except, this time, there was a noticeable difference in how she spoke about her latest lover and it bothered Klaus enough to comment on it.

"Was?"

He was met with silence.

"Did the nitwit blow out his knee? Do say you flew all the way here to gift me this joyous news."

"No actually." Rebekah said quietly picking at the food before her. "We broke up."

"You broke up?"

"Why am I not surprised." Klaus said feeling quite opposite. "You ditch your duties to be with this small-town bum and you don't even have the decency to make it through to the end of the year."

"I would never ditch you Nik." Rebekah said before admitting in quite a bitter voice. "God knows I ought to."

Stunned and wordless, Klaus examined the hurt his ears picked up. His feelings regarding his sister's relationship with the New York Giants player were quite known by everyone, so there really was no need to revisit the ghastly topic. Especially now Rebekah saw the light and returned to his side.

"It's his loss." Klaus decided, picking up his glass of water for a toast. "Those concussions must've severely scrambled the last of his brain cells if he thinks he can do better than you."

"Good riddance I say."

Glasses did not clink, and Klaus was left hanging but the fresh smile fixed on Rebekah Mikaelson's gloomy face was deemed a good enough compromise by both siblings.

"You're adorable Nik." Rebekah said making it hard for Klaus to mask the glimmering affection he held for her behind all that glowering Matt Donovan hate.

"Anyway," His sister continued, ready to change the subject. "I'm not seeing anyone right now and I haven't for a while."

"I've decided to focus on myself. And my career. I'm working on some interesting new projects I have a feeling will really pay off."

"I have every faith they will." Klaus agreed, but knowing it didn't matter since his sister had enough of their father's fortune to keep her fed for several lifetimes.

He, on the other hand, was left with a tidy little sum of exactly zero. Mikael made it quite discernible to anyone with eyes that his sons would always come second to his beloved daughters Freya and Rebekah. And as Klaus found out some years ago due to an indiscretion on their mother's part, he could no longer continue to count himself even among Mikael's runners up.

" _I'm sorry, I didn't know." Bonnie's soft voice admitted when he let slip his secret._

 _She reached out to comfort him and he let her._

 _Both drunk and a little daring, she placed her hand on his face and he, feeling dizzy with desire closed his eyes to soak in the warmth better. The last thing he saw, the dark stars dancing in her eyes._

" _That's the point of a secrets love." He said mirroring her softness, dying to make amends for his harshness earlier._

" _They are not meant to be known."_

 _When he opened his eyes again, there was a dark shadow, grim and foreboding, cast over her face. Still eyes instead of stars and a terrible iciness. It looked foreign on such a warm face, yet every bit as comforting as warm hands to a man used to much harsher winds and colder climates._

 _Drawn to her and that terribleness, Klaus moved closer, then covered her small smooth hand with his own more worn ones._

" _Yours need not haunt you as mine have."_

"I have every faith too." Rebekah chirped, pulling Klaus out of his head and back into his seat.

Sat before him was the little girl he always knew, none the wiser of the shameful secrets her mother buried and keen to keep her that way, Klaus pushed the conversation along.

"And when they do work out sister, forward me a permanent address. Perhaps then your invitations to lunch won't keep getting so easily lost."

"Cute." His sister replied not rising to the slight. "But the truth is, I might be coming home. Soon."

"Really?" Interest peaked, Klaus paused his meal.

"Anything to do with these interesting projects shrouded in such secrecy?"

There was a ghost of a question on his lips and Klaus knew he best not give it life.

He disliked Donovan; the man that came before however, was loathed almost as much as he were loved by Klaus.

"Well brother, you'll have to wait and see." Rebekah simply replied grinning and excited and inadvertently relieving her brother of any anxiety he may have begun to feel as to the possibility of Rebekah returning to a romance he expressly forbade.

Even so, Klaus's own smile never quite felt as easy as his sister's and so when he raised his glass to once again toast her, exclaiming; "To hitched breaths and spinetingling anticipation then" only one of them knew what he truly meant.

The rest of the meal looked to be a fairly quiet affair. Rebekah babbled on happily about her most recent exploits, a reality TV show pilot that may or may not be picked up. Although Klaus figured it would most definitely be the latter, he nonetheless continued to amuse his sister with the platitudes she always desired to hear but was nearly always denied. There was no harm in it; earn some good will, remind her of how good they could be together without the tiresome procession of paramours coming between them.

Still, his sister showed no intention of revisiting the mysterious enterprise she gleefully teased at the start of their meal. When the bill came, and Rebekah made a grab for it declaring today's get-together to be her treat, Klaus felt his suspicions resurface instead.

"Exactly how lucrative is this secret project of yours?" Klaus asked waving away the waiter. They weren't done here. "Care to share the details or just the wealth sister?"

Rebekah breezed by the interrogative tone with a shrewd smile ready to pounce on the segue she'd been waiting for.

"Ah, speaking of secrecy! I've noticed you've decidedly kept mum about your latest tryst."

"Not much point Nik, I have web alerts on all of us."

"Every so often, when things are going swimmingly as they are now, I find myself wondering if – by chance – I may have unlocked the answer to Rebekah Speak. But then you go ahead and throw a spanner in the work with more nonsense for me to decipher."

Rebekah answered his challenge by pulling out her phone immediately and on the screen was a webpage she'd clearly readied for him.

"Your little Cinderella."

Being waved in front of Klaus's face – a side by side shot of Bonnie and him. The first image showed their botched escape plan during the party; the second, the two of them finally parting just a few hours ago.

Frowning, Klaus took the device into his own hands for a closer look.

He knew there may be a couple of snaps out there, but he had greatly underestimated the paparazzi and their commitment to plaguing his life. They must've camped outside the building for the entire night, eagle eyes fixed on every A-lister in town counted the heads of guests leaving the party then deduced Bonnie Bennett hadn't been one them.

"There are a dozen or so more." Rebekah piped helpfully, a puckish grin plastered on her face at the prospect at having caught Klaus red-handed. "Different angles, same story. Cindy over here, leaving your place rather conspicuously at seven in the morning. Still wearing her gown from the ball."

"Left behind a little more than a glass slipper, did she?"

"Don't be so crass." Klaus snapped before preparing a far more measured response. "You have bad information Rebekah. I am not sexually involved with Ms. Bennett."

"She's…a friend."

Friend, such an odd descriptor for what transpired between them he thought, one Rebekah didn't seem to buy either.

"Ah yes, because you're _so friendly_ Nik."

Arms folded, Klaus sat in cold silence, determined not to dignify his sister's accusations with a response.

"Well if that's the story you insist on sticking with you'd best find a way to tell the rest of the world that." Rebekah suggested, languidly flicking through the photos on her phone.

"From now on out, expect the sound of a million and one camera lens shutters welcoming you both wherever you go."

"Fucking fantastic." Klaus cursed, breaking his impassive act with the quiet anger of a man ready to pull his own hair out.

His sister, however, went on to paint a sunnier picture.

"Klaus Mikaelson, taken!" She said her right hand suddenly shooting forward, fingers splayed and gesturing at an imaginary headline above Klaus's head. "I can imagine the covers, all of them! Such crossover potential in terms of the demographics interested in this."

"I really am green with envy Nik." Rebekah wept but her sullen expression had little time to settle as Klaus could see lightbulbs go off behind those baby blues of hers.

"Maybe I should call my new sister and welcome her to the family. A night out, the three of us!"

Watching his sister's face come to life at a thought that made his stomach sink was enough to spur Klaus into action. This needed to end. Now.

"For the last time Rebekah," He began, kneading his temples with his fingertips "I'm the surly singleton you've always known. Do not give them any additional fodder."

"I mean it."

The last line Klaus uttered was a threat and pointedly so, yet Rebekah's enthusiasm for his love life only waned slightly.

"You're not the least bit interested in her then? Romantically?"

"She's an interesting person but no." He said bluntly while struggling to push out of his mind two distinct sensations from that night, both of which stayed with him. The electric current pulsating from Bonnie's thigh, pressed hotly against his own as they sat for a while; and the way she flinched when he made a move to touch it – disconnecting in a harsh instant.

The empty space she left behind stunned Klaus like a taser directing ice instead of fire; a coldness so frightening, the thought still smarts his far too thin skin the morning after.

He couldn't bear to feel it again.

"Pity." Said Rebekah, ready to believe her brother's words more than he himself could.

"She seems rather charming and would've done wonders to soften up your image."

 _His image._ Klaus stiffened, _him, being a thing one recoils from._

Unable to trust himself to speak above a whisper, he answered his sister in one slow breath.

"And what pray tell, is so abhorrent about my very notion that it requires swift course correction in the form of arm candy."

"Oh Nik." Rebekah clucked in a manner Klaus could only find condescending. "You're beautiful, brilliant and so boneheaded about celebrity."

"As a fellow actress, I keep telling you how vital it is to foster the most marketable and durable brand possible. They don't teach you that at LAMDA or Yale."

A sudden stream of violent anger coursed through Klaus's veins. That presumptuousness she wore evoked the image of another smug sibling, one he should've cut down when he had the chance last night.

"Oh but of course, the infallible Brand Beks. Built on numerous photos of frankly borderline pornographic nature, others just filthily and explicitly so." Klaus hissed, his vehemence for his sister intensifying. "Disconcerting club appearances across the land and a minor guest appearance or two on whatever reality nonsense that's gripping the nation at this exact moment."

"You've really perfected your craft sister. Teach me."

Instead of a rueful expression, indignant tears shimmered at Rebekah's defiant eyes.

"You may look down on me now Nik, but you know I'm right. People may respect you and your fancy education, but they love me. To them I'm a person they know. Someone they can lunch with."

What exactly did she hope to achieve, drawing attention to how it was she ended up filling a seat meant for another? Oblivious to thin ice she was skating on, Rebekah continued to reprimand him. She had been imbrued with a remarkable amount of confidence Klaus could only ascribe to her foolish desire to be like Elijah. Be promoted from the mere stand-in.

Another spike of anger and Klaus made up his mind. He would oblige her wish to be like their blasted brother and send them _both_ to Coventry.

Rebekah took advantage of the quiet and went on.

"You're just end credits and a couple of rave reviews. You never shine during the press junket and God forbid anyone see you crack a smile on a late-night show sofa."

"It hasn't held me back." He said flatly, the grip on his cutlery tightening. Despite all of Rebekah's faults, bearing grudges against her siblings weren't one of them and by her speaking so freely, Klaus knew she had no idea exactly how many he was filing in his mind against her.

"No, it hasn't." She admitted unable to deny his success. "But cracks are beginning to show."

"Especially with all that happened recently."

He had heard enough.

Klaus slammed down his fist, his anger no longer concealed or manageable.

"I bloody knew it!" He growled pointing his bread knife at his sister.

"Elijah put you up to this. You're not nearly smart enough to come up with this change-your-ways-Christmas-Ghosts trite on your own."

"Niklaus Mikaelson calling me names? Wow, so unexpected." Rebekah coolly retorted at his outburst. Her bravery however was clearly an act. His sister's arms, like rubber bands, had snapped back to her side almost immediately after his fist caused the tableware to tremble. Now her whole body was carefully tucked behind the slab that kept a snarling Klaus at bay, Rebekah cleared her throat and proceeded to explain herself.

"Your mistrust is totally misdirected." She said in her defence, her voice full of anguish at how Klaus insisted on treating her yet unable to admit it was of her own making. Unlike his far too soft sister, Klaus Mikaelson knew what actual abuse and injustice looked like.

"Yes, I did speak to Elijah, but he refused to divulge any meaningful information about what drama you two decided to cook up without me."

"But it's clear as day now." She added, head held high, breathing heavily. "I don't need to be a genius to see your well on your way to self-destructing like Kol did."

Klaus settled back in his chair, dropped his cutlery and lowered his tone.

"Kol is fine." He said simply, no trace of rage left on his face.

His emotions may have dissipated upon release, but Rebekah's had not.

"Is he now?" She questioned, "And how would you define fine, brother?"

"He's clean." Klaus offered. "He's alive." He tried again, after realising that it had been some time since he'd seen his little brother and therefore unable to verify the truth of his earlier statement.

Suddenly he found himself unable to look his sister in the eye and yet unable to block out her scathing laugh.

"Yes, alive! To be what exactly? Lonely, miserable and hurting from the category seven destruction he left in his wake?"

"I do not see you by his bedside Rebekah so just spare me your indignation." Klaus replied, he found her hypocrisy unbearable. He wasn't the only Mikaelson to have tired of Kol's drama and he was happy to remind her of that fact.

Addiction is a disease, Klaus acknowledged this, but young Kol's problems began years before the first needle. He set out on a road that nearly came to a close with a disastrous a car wreck which almost claimed the life of his girlfriend and labelmate, Davina Claire. Ms. Claire survived but miscarried a child Kol never told any of his siblings about yet found perfectly acceptable to lay blame of its death at their feet nonetheless. The absent family he should've been able to call upon before getting behind the wheel.

"He might appear well but we both know he'll never be the same." Rebekah said, her voice was far gentler now and when Klaus met her eyes, he saw a flicker of concern he didn't care to recognise.

"So your suggestion is, I settle down with a virtual stranger to avoid the temptation of hard drugs?" Klaus last saw his troubled younger brother at a treatment centre in San Francisco, working on material for his latest album, no doubt fuelled by those painful events. An album Klaus knew would do little to fill the Davina-shaped hole in Kol's life with anything other than radio plays, a mountain of cash and critic's list mentions. All of which are things Klaus couldn't understand why they shouldn't bring his brother gratification without judgement from the rest of the world.

"Or will the _retweets_ and _likes_ nourish my soul? Save it from self-imposed damnation." He continued on, challenging his sister. "Or are you, naïve enough to think that true love is to be found in this town full of charlatans and sham marriages?"

Nothing from Rebekah, just a cruel cackle from him to break up the insults he happily hurled at her.

"Do tell me sister," Klaus sneered, ready to finish off his sister and her pipedreams about finding authentic happiness in this god-awful world. "How was your appearance on Millionaire Matchmaker and Celebrities go Dating. A fruitful enterprise?"

"Plenty actually." Rebekah responded finally, the artificial lightness in her voice unable to mask the fierce upset his words had caused. "I'm playing the game."

"No." Klaus growled before adding in a lower tone. "You just think you are."

"You're not a player Rebekah. Oh no, you're far too sentimental for that." He said with a particularly nasty grin and a song in his voice. "Ask your Homecoming King."

Klaus let out a false gasp at his own behaviour, delighting in the extra mile he could go just to further mock the devastated woman sat before him. He then watched the tears (held back for a record time) begin their descent and looked on intently at the thick, wet drops mixing in with the dark inky mascara as they muddied up the snowy skin they rolled down.

He had brought her to heel, the same way he had so many times before, she wouldn't dare respond now.

After a deep breath, Rebekah did just that – dare.

"If you think I'm a just vacuous reality star it's because I let you Nik."

"I know you and Elijah like to pretend otherwise, but I leaked those pictures of me. The Mikaelson's little Shirley Temple grew up to flash her tits on the internet for likes. And retweets. What of it?"

Her voice quaked with emotion but she, herself appeared still.

"And the men you sneer at Nik? The ones lucky enough to parade me around know they're placeholders for the real thing – if you would ever let me have what I wanted."

Klaus's eyes flashed wide at her boldness.

"Bring up that accursed name and I'm gone." He barely managed to say through clenched teeth.

"I won't warn you again sister."

His poor foolish sister wouldn't know real if it hit her in the eye; he was convinced the ample cushioning from those fake lashes blinded Rebekah to the betrayal he felt at the hands of Marcel Gerard. It wasn't an exaggeration when Klaus told her, he'd rather see her pretty little throat slit than stand by as Judas shoved his honeyed tongue down it to spite Klaus – the man who loved him first.

"There is no point is there." Rebekah said in sorrowful agreement. It was a jarring topic even for the Mikaelsons who as it stood had plenty of other sore points and scabs to pick at.

He watched as Rebekah wiped the tears on her face until dry. She was hardly presentable but that didn't seem to be the point. Denying him was. When she finally spoke again there was an unfamiliar resolve to her tone.

"An opportunity presented itself to you Nik."

"A way to transform."

His sister, for a final time, pulled up a picture of Bonnie Bennett on her phone screen. It was a new one he hadn't seen before. The tagline read Bonnie was being honoured with a Trevor Hero Award for her work on growing youth representation of LGBT characters and mental health issues on television.

It was a striking image, Bonnie's humbled face framed by a head of wild brown curls he'd been dying to see. Her smile, brighter than the halo of directed light she stood under, was made to seem only brighter by the soft beige of the cropped top she wore. She approached the podium, confidently, in a pair of sparkling gold heels and a long, airy yet brilliantly red skirt following her like the train of a wedding dress.

"She's a stone's throw away from being a Disney princess. The all-American sweetheart. Personable, pretty, and plenty experienced at managing her image."

Klaus felt a painful lump in his throat at seeing the adoring faces at bottom of the picture, watching on as Bonnie claimed her award. Stood in the wings of the podium was Alaric Saltzman, chest swollen with pride, the man whose invisible hand wrote the fairy-tale Rebekah'd become so enchanted with. A man Klaus knew would, without the slightest hesitation, take an axe to any wolf should they get any ideas of luring little Red off the path he imagined for her.

And yet where had Saltzman been? The day Bonnie Bennett refused to speak of, despite all of Klaus's efforts. The day she hinted another monster made his move. A monster, Klaus saw perched prettily, front row in this picture – leering at Saltzman's protégé with eyes the size of saucers. Kai Parker's guileful grin was empty of any real emotion other than a thundering hunger Klaus could resonate with all too well and left him with a feeling opposite to what his sister intended.

"So dear brother, I suggest you do yourself a favour and use whatever ammunition you can against the papers and find a way to convince Bonnie she needs you too."

"Or what Rebekah? You'll help me take some nudes?"

Her voice had finally snapped Klaus out of his daze, only for his bite to be more vicious than ever before. But as soon as he spoke, Klaus knew he drew blood from Rebekah Mikaelson for the last time, for there was no brutality left for her well-beaten body to bear.

"Or, you'll end up exactly where you're so desperately, and with such unnecessary nastiness, trying to convince the people closest to you you've always belonged –" She said, the furious words she uttered a threat and pointedly so.

"A loveless leper Nik."

And then she was gone, abandoning him again but not before turning a final time to see her cruel brother be swept up by a wave of whispers of those who had watched them from the side lines. The world, wondering what story the scandalous, hateful Niklaus Mikaelson was at the centre of this time.

He wanted to chase after Rebekah, rip that silly hat she wore off her head and drag her back – kicking and screaming – to stay and face the whispers too. She'd proven herself every bit as hateful as he. Instead, Klaus slowly reached for his shades and hid as best he could.

Once they were sat on his nose, he relaxed a little in his seat and shut the troubled eyes concealed behind them. Despite costing a pretty penny, they were ill-equipped to shield the rest of him from the glare of gossipers.

It wasn't lost on Klaus. How any other man would've gotten up and left too. Arms crossed, settled into his chair, with no other company than the fiction of this middling mister, a man unable to deal with the insanity of infamy, Klaus resoundingly made up his mind – his imaginary friend would be a lesser man for it.

His glasses continued to their job as best they could, for now they were not only providing cover for the looks but also the aching truth Rebekah left him with, before it began to sting at his tired eyes. He was utterly alone. A devastating distance dealt by a blow from so long ago. His mother's parting gift. Details of which he couldn't share with those he held dearest; not without shining a harsh spotlight on a truth that could poison them against him, worse than it had his father.

They hated him. His siblings, all of them, including sweet Rebekah.

They hated him and did not know _why_.

But wasn't that the point of secrets, Klaus told himself as he had told a beautifully sad Bonnie Bennett last night.

He was never meant to be known, let alone loved.


End file.
